Five to Midnight
by the local knicker merchant
Summary: Carla Connor returns to Coronation Street just before Christmas 2017. She's still hiding the same devastating secret, but this time she hasn't come alone. Her return will mean big changes, not only for her family and for Peter Barlow, but also for the very special person she brings with her. As the clock ticks closer to midnight, she worries; Has she left it too late?
1. Chapter 1: Homecoming

**Chapter 1: Homecoming**

"Carla. Carla!"

Carla spun around. A broad smile illuminated her face as she saw who was crossing the road and walking towards her as fast as her sky-high stilettos would allow on the cobbled surface.

"Hey!"

The two women met and embraced warmly.

"What are you doing here? Why didn't you say you were coming? And look at you, you have grown so much since I last saw you."

The last was to the small figure stood by Carla's side, clutching her hand.

"Say hello to Aunty Chelle, darlin'."

The small figure smiled shyly up at Michelle Connor.

"Hello Aunty Chelle."

"Oh, enough of that. Give me a hug, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl."

Michelle bent down and wrapped her arms around the girl, enveloping her in a loving hug and planting a series of kisses over her face and head. The girl giggled and hugged her aunty. Michelle stood up to continue her conversation with Carla, but kept a hold of the girl's hand, stroking it affectionately.

"So, you were gonna tell me what you're doing here?"

"We just thought since it was Christmas it'd be nice to see the family."

"Oh yeah? Johnny never mentioned anything."

"It was meant to be a surprise. Actually, we were just gonna pop up to the flat to see him and Jenny now."

"Well, they're not in at the moment. Listen, why don't you come with me to the bistro and we'll have a good old natter?"

"Oh, I dunno, Chelle, I umm…"

"Worried you might bump into Peter?"

"Yeah."

"I take it he doesn't know you're here?"

"No. And I'd rather pick my moment."

"Oh god, talk of the devil."

"What?"

Michelle nodded over Carla's shoulder. Carla turned around.

Striding down the street towards the trio was an obviously agitated Peter.

"Oh god."

Panicked, Carla turned back to Michelle and pleaded.

"Chelle, take her up to your flat, yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

"I can't let her meet him. Not like this. Please, Chelle."

"Okay, Car, relax, we're going."

Michelle held out her hand to the girl.

"You wanna come with me, sweetheart?"

The girl looked up at Carla, an unspoken question in her eyes.

"Go with Aunty Chelle, darlin', I'll be up soon, okay?"

She bent down and kissed the girl affectionately before imploring Michelle.

"Go!"

Carla anxiously watched as Michelle led the girl away by the hand, hardly breathing until they were safely inside the security doors of Victoria Court before turning back to face Peter.

"Is that her?"

Peter's face expressed a barely repressed rage.

Carla took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly.

"Well? Carla? Is that my daughter?"


	2. Chapter 2: Face-to-face

**Chapter 2: Face-to-face**

"Drop the attitude, Peter."

"Me drop the attitude? You're the one that arrived in town without a word and now you're hiding my daughter from me!"

"Hiding? You've got to be –"

"I have rights, you know."

"Seriously? You need to brush up on your history, mate."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Jamie is four years old and today is the first time you have ever laid eyes on her. Whose fault is that?"

"You know I wanted to."

"When she was born, where were you?"

"You know how things were between us back then."

"And the next four years?"

"You hated me."

"You really think I would've kept her from you? That I would've denied her a father because of my feelings? Is that really what you think of me?"

"Of course not, I just…"

"Wanted an easy life."

"Wanted to sort myself out. So I could be a good father to her. And to Simon."

"Are you sorted then? I'm guessing yes since you're busy starting a new family."

"You know about that?"

"Of course."

Carla laughed nervously.

"Look at us. Can't even go five minutes without arguing. How we ever thought we'd be able to parent a child together."

Peter reached out and touched her arm gently.

"We would, I know we would."

Carla shrugged off his touch.

"Don't."

"Sorry… You visiting your family for Christmas then?"

"No. I'm here to see you. _We're_ here to see you."

"Me?"

"Like you said, you are her father."

"So why did you rush her off before?"

"I need to prepare her first. I'm not gonna just dump a father on her without warning."

"Does she know about me? Who I am?"

"No."

Peter's face was a picture of disappointment.

"Right."

"What was I supposed to tell her, Peter? Here, darling, this is a picture of your father, he doesn't want anything to do with you."

"Okay. I guess that's fair. Why now?"

"Umm… She's, ummm, I dunno, she's getting to that age where she's starting to ask questions. And if there's a chance that you and her could have a relationship, a real relationship, then I wanna make that happen for her."

"Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means –"

"But Peter, this is only gonna happen if you're committed to maintaining that relationship. I don't want her getting attached to you and then, when we go back home, you never calling her again, never seeing her. You have to be in it for the long haul."

"I am. I promise I am."

"Listen, Peter, you need to go away and have a good think about what you want. Whether you really want to be her dad."

"I don't need to think –"

"And talk to Toyah about it. I need to know she's supportive before… before I get Jamie's hopes up."

"She'll be fine."

"Good. Then you won't mind if I meet her? Just to put my mind at rest, ya know."

"Fine. Come to the pub later and we'll sit down and talk, all three of us."

Carla smiled her assent before turning towards Victoria Court where her daughter was waiting for her.

"Carla."

Carla turned around to face Peter.

"It's good to see you."


	3. Chapter 3: Family reunion

**Chapter 3: Family reunion**

What was wrong with her? Her and Peter were dead and buried. Had been for years. She'd moved on; more than once. So why was she feeling like this? Why was she sat here shivering on this park bench in the middle of a northern winter lamenting the end of a marriage that was doomed before it even began?

She thought about Peter; happy, in love, starting a family with someone new. She wondered what Toyah was like. She'd never met her, all she knew was that she was Leanne's sister. How Peter could've gone there with his ex-sister-in-law Carla couldn't even begin to fathom. But he had. And whatever it was about this new "love of his life", it had kept him off the booze, it had made him excited to be an expectant dad, it had made him happy.

Carla couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't inspired this side of Peter. All being married to Carla had inspired Peter to do was go back on the booze, to run away, scared, at the prospect of becoming a father again, to find comfort in the arms of another woman.

What was so special about Toyah? More importantly, what was wrong with Carla? These thoughts kept spinning around and around in Carla's head until she wanted to scream.

Carla shook her head violently; she had to stop thinking like this. She couldn't afford to get maudlin about the past. Not now. He'd moved on. She had to accept that. Not that she'd ever want him back; not after what he did. But it hurt. Knowing that he had this happy future, when she…

She stood up.

"Get a grip, Carla."

She had to get back to her daughter, she'd be missing her mum.

But Jamie was far from missing her mum.

Carla stood in the entrance to Michelle and Robert's flat, shocked to see it full of people.

"Chelle?"

"Sorry, I called Johnny and he called Kate and..."

"And Aidan?"

"Ummm, he had some factory stuff to sort out. Said he'd catch up with you later. You want a cuppa?"

"Yeah, ta."

Johnny finally noticed Carla's presence.

"There she is."

Johnny gave Carla a quick hug before his attention was drawn back to his granddaughter.

"Grandad!" Jamie chastised Johnny for his brief absence as her play companion.

"Coming sweetheart."

"Alright Jenny?" Carla didn't know what to say to Jenny, she barely knew her step-mother.

"Hi Carla, you didn't tell us you were coming," Jenny sounded almost reproachful.

"Yeah, sorry. It was a last-minute thing."

Kate seized her opportunity and jumped out of her seat, making a beeline to her sister, who was still stood by the door. Before the obligatory sisterly hug was even done with, Kate was making her excuses.

"I'm sorry I can't stay, I promised I'd go see… a friend."

"You mean Rana?"

"What? Who told you? How do you –"

"Kate, it's fine. We'll catch up later, okay?"

"You sure?"

"Go."

Kate smiled distractedly at her big sister before hurrying out of the flat.

Carla sighed and leaned back against the door, a bittersweet smile on her face at the sight of her daughter and her dad playing together. Johnny had welcomed Jamie Connor into the family with all the grandfatherly love Carla could have wished for. As for Carla? Well, she'd never felt less like a Connor.

Carla watched the happy family reunion for a few moments before pulling out her mobile and making a call.

"Are you avoiding me?"

"So where are you then?"

"If that's how you wanna play it, I'm coming to you."

"No! Stay where you are."

Minutes later Carla was walking into the Rovers; her eyes scanned the room and locked onto her target. She strode over to one of the booths where her brother was sitting alone, nursing a pint.

"Nobody likes a sulker, Aidan."

"I'm not sulking."

A raised eyebrow from Carla.

"Okay, maybe I'm sulking a bit. But can you blame me?"

Carla slid into the seat opposite Aidan.

"I told you, I've got other responsibilities now. I've got to think about the future."

"Don't you see, that's exactly what I'm doing. That factory is this family's legacy. The Connor legacy. Your legacy."

"No, Aidan, that factory, it's my past."

"I'm begging you, Carla, as my sister, please help me."

Carla looked at Aidan intently; she could tell he was desperate; she should know, she'd been in that same position herself more than once. But things were different now.

"I'm sorry, Aidan, I can't."

Aidan shook his head with, what was it Carla thought, disgust?

"So what are you doing here?"

"What? Can't I come visit my family at Christmas?"

"Why now? I mean, it's not like you've given us a second thought since you left."

"Hang on a minute. I don't recall you ever coming to visit me in Devon."

"So it's all down to us to maintain the relationship?"

"That's not what I'm –"

Carla dropped her head to her hands in frustration; in weariness. Aidan looked at his sister properly for the first time.

"Are you okay?"

Carla looked up at him sharply.

"Apart from you doing me head in ya mean?"

Aidan laughed.

"Yeah, apart from that. That was a serious question, Carla."

Carla smiled at her brother.

"I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Well, I am gasping for a drink if you were offering…?"

"Sure."

Aidan stoop up and walked to the bar. Carla rested her head in her hands again, her breathing was shallow and ragged. Shivering, she wrapped her coat tighter around her body. She looked over at her brother standing at the bar. She wished she could help him, but how could she? She had to think of the future; Jamie's future. That was all that mattered to her now and she was scared that she was running out of time. The thought brought tears to her eyes.

"I got your usual, red wine. Hope that's okay."

Carla blinked back the tears and plastered a smile on her face. But in the back of her mind, the imagined sound of that ticking clock, moving ever closer to midnight, struck fear into her heart.


	4. Chapter 4: The new model

**Chapter 4: The new model**

Carla sat at the dining table in the back room of the Rovers trying her hardest not to stare at the woman sat opposite her. Toyah. The woman Peter loved. The love of his life. The mother of his child. She tried to figure out what it was about her that would attract a man like Peter. All she saw was dowdy, boring, dressed in curtains. Maybe Carla didn't know Peter as well as she'd always prided herself.

Toyah looked up and caught Carla's questioning gaze; the two women quickly looked away, embarrassed.

The silence was unbearable; why had Peter left them alone like this?

Finally, Peter re-entered the room, armed with steaming hot cups of tea, oblivious to the awkwardness his absence had caused.

He sat down at the table and looked intently at his ex-wife.

"We've talked it over, me and Toyah, and we want Jamie to be part of our life. Part of our family."

"You're both committed? Long-term?" Carla needed to be sure.

"Absolutely," Peter jumped in.

Carla looked over at Toyah; Toyah pointedly avoided her probing gaze.

"Toyah?" Carla wanted to hear it from her lips; from the lips of the woman who would be a mother – a step-mother – to her daughter.

"Yeah. Like Peter says, Jamie will always be welcome in our home."

"And the baby?"

"What about the baby?"

"I know how much energy a new baby takes up. I, umm…"

"What are you getting at, Carla?"

Carla took a deep breath; this was harder than she'd imagined.

"Peter, do you mind giving me and Toyah a minute to talk? In private?"

"Umm, sure."

Confused, Peter rose to his feet and walked towards the door that linked the private residence to the public house.

"I'll be in the bar."

As soon as the door had closed behind Peter, Toyah's accusations began.

"What are you doing here, Carla?"

"What? I –"

"Do you want Peter back?"

Carla laughed; if only Toyah knew the truth.

"No. I am not interested in Peter, not in that way."

"Then why are you trying to drive a wedge between us? Pushing me about my commitment to your daughter. Yours, Carla. Yours and Peter's. Not mine. Why does it matter what I think? What I feel?"

"I'm not trying to cause you any problems, Toyah. I just…"

"What?"

"I need to be sure, that you will love my daughter like she's your own," Carla started to tear up. "I can't bear the thought that she would ever feel, I dunno, second-rate. That she would feel the difference between her and your biological child. I just couldn't bear it."

Toyah softened at witnessing Carla's raw emotion.

"Carla, I wouldn't, I swear. I love children. I'll learn to love yours because she's Peter's and I love Peter. I'm sorry, that's the best I can do."

A soft knock at the door soon revealed Peter wanting re-admittance to this bizarre tête-à-tête. He approached the table cautiously.

"So, how did you girls get on?"

Both Carla and Toyah were loathe to break the silence that had descended after Peter's question. Peter implored Carla.

"Car, I know I've been a rubbish dad. Please, please let me make it up to Jamie. And you. I swear, I won't let you down. Just give me a chance. I just wanna be her dad. Please."

Carla looked from Peter to Toyah. She couldn't read Toyah, she didn't know if she was being sincere, if she would love Jamie like she deserved. But she could still read Peter. And she could tell that he was desperate to prove himself. Looking into those dreamboat eyes of his, that were looking back at her with such sadness and longing, caused Carla to melt.

"Okay. I'll talk to Jamie tonight. And, if she's happy about meeting you, I'll bring her round tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. But it's up to Jamie, you understand. If she says no, then that's it."

The tears sprang from Peter's eyes; he hadn't felt like this about anything for the longest time.

"Of course. Absolutely. She comes first."

Peter reached out and took hold of Carla's hand.

"Thank you, Carla. Thank you so much."

Carla snuck a look at Toyah's reaction and she knew then without a doubt that the road ahead would be tough. But looking back at Peter and his unrestrained joy at the thought of being able to see his daughter made it all worthwhile for Carla. Not that she had a choice; Peter was her last and only hope.


	5. Chapter 5: Daddy's girl?

**Chapter 5: Daddy's girl?**

Carla's senses slowly returned as consciousness dragged her body back to reality. It was touch first, a small hand prodding her, and then her hearing…

"Mummy. Mummy. Wake up, mummy."

Carla gingerly opened one eye to welcome back the sense of sight, however hazy. Jamie was sitting next to Carla on their hotel room bed, desperate for her mum to wake up and alleviate her boredom. But Carla didn't have the energy to resume her everyday responsibilities; not yet.

Groggily, Carla reached out, grabbed a hold of Jamie and pulled her down to lie next to her. She wrapped her arms around the girl and planted a soft kiss on her head.

"Morning, baby."

"Mummy, it's time to get up."

"Not yet. Just… lay still for a bit."

Carla's eyes drooped shut and, almost immediately, she fell back asleep.

It was the noise of the television that woke Carla hours later. Jamie had taken her entertainment into her own hands and had discovered the cartoon channel. Carla picked up her phone to look at the time – 1.17pm. And then there were the missed calls, most of them from Peter.

Carla struggled, first to a sitting position, and then to her feet. She grabbed onto the headboard to stop herself from falling over.

"Did you want something to eat, Jamie?"

Jamie shook her head, not taking her eyes off the television screen.

"I got room service."

Jamie suddenly turned to look at her mum, worried.

"Are you mad?"

"No, darling, of course not."

Carla stumbled into the bathroom; she shut the door behind her and sank down onto the closed toilet seat. Her phone still in hand, she placed a call.

Before she could say anything, Peter's angry voice thundered down the line.

"What the hell are you playing at, Carla? I expected you hours ago!"

"I'm sorry, I really am. I, umm…"

"What?"

"We're gonna have to reschedule."

"No. No, Carla, you can't do this to me."

Carla dropped her head to her hands, exhaustion already threatening to take over her body.

"Peter, please, I can't –"

"We had an arrangement. I thought you were serious when you said you wanted me and Jamie to have a relationship."

"I am –"

"Then why cancel the very first meeting? I don't get it. I don't get why you're torturing me like this."

Carla took a series of shallow breaths, trying desperately to regain control over her breathing.

"Okay, fine."

"Fine? What does that mean?"

"Give me an hour, no, two. Give me two hours."

"You'll be here – with Jamie – in two hours?"

"Yes."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Two hours later, Carla and Jamie were stood outside the side door of the Rovers. Carla reached up to knock when Jamie suddenly pulled on her mum's arm. Carla looked down to see her daughter looking back up at her anxiously.

Carla crouched down in front of Jamie and looked her in the eye.

"You okay, baby?"

Jamie shrugged her confusion.

"You know you don't have to do this, don't you?"

The girl nodded.

"I want to."

"Then what is it, darlin'?"

Jamie was hesitant to voice her concerns.

"Will he, umm, will he want to kiss me?"

"You know, you don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with, okay? I won't make you; he won't make you. I promise you that. Listen, sweetheart, I know you're nervous. But you know what? So is your dad. This is a big thing for him, meeting you. He loves you so much and he would never do anything to hurt you or upset you. Okay?"

Jamie nodded. Carla wrapped her up in a big hug and held her close.

"I'm so proud of you, baby."

Carla released her daughter from her embrace and looked at her seriously.

"You ready?"

"Yes."

Carla stood and knocked on the door, making sure she kept a tight grip on Jamie's hand the whole time.

The door opened to reveal the very last person Carla wanted to see: Leanne flamin' Battersby.

"Well, look who finally decided to turn up."

"Leanne, don't start."

"You've been back here for two minutes and you're already messing Peter about. He's been going out of his mind this morning. I don't know how you even dare show your face –"

"Is he here?"

Leanne looked at Carla in disgust. Carla had no doubt that, if Jamie wasn't there, Leanne wouldn't have held back in expressing her hatred of Carla.

Leanne sighed; a vicious, bitter sigh.

"Come in."

Leanne left Carla and Jamie alone in the back room while she went to fetch Peter. Jamie, feeling her nerves creep back, climbed into her mum's lap as she sat on the sofa.

A soft knock at the door; it slowly opened to reveal Peter stood in the doorway. Jamie looked up at her dad shyly from the safety of her mother's arms. A warm smile spread over Peter's face as he looked lovingly at his daughter. He took a few tentative steps towards mother and daughter.

Carla lowered her head to talk softly to Jamie.

"Hey, baby, you wanna say hi to your daddy?"

Jamie looked at Peter with wide, inquisitive eyes.

"Hi."

Peter sat down awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, trying desperately not to overwhelm Jamie with his excitement at meeting her.

"Hey there, Jamie. It's so nice to meet you."

"Are you my dad?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, I am. I'm your dad."

"I always wanted a dad."

"Well, now you got one. And, you know what? I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm always gonna be your dad."

The door opened again and Toyah entered the room, without hesitation or sensitivity.

"Hi," Toyah was almost sickeningly upbeat. "You must be Jamie?"

Jamie looked up at Toyah curiously before turning her questioning gaze to her mum.

"Darlin', this is Toyah, she's your dad's…" Carla desperately searched for the right word to describe Toyah's relationship to Peter.

"Partner," Toyah had no such hesitation.

But Jamie still didn't understand. Carla tried to explain.

"Toyah is your dad's girlfriend."

"Is she my mum as well as you?"

"No," Toyah was adamant.

"She's your…" But Peter couldn't quite explain it either.

"She's like… your aunty," Carla decided.

"Like Aunty Chelle?"

"Yeah, exactly, like Aunty Chelle."

It wasn't the most successful of first meetings, Peter thought. He lamented as much to Carla when Toyah had taken Jamie to use the bathroom.

"I don't think she likes me."

"She doesn't know you, Peter, not yet. Give her time."

"I just thought…"

"What? That it'd be like a Hollywood movie, you'd run to each other in slow motion, a big hug, a teary I love you, and everything would be perfect? Come on Peter."

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No. Of course not. I'm saying that you need to be realistic. This is a big thing for Jamie. For both of you. You gotta give her time to get used to everything."

As she spoke, Carla shuffled closer to where Peter was sat on the sofa and rubbed his back supportively.

"You think?"

"Yes. Just be yourself, Peter, and she will fall in love with you in no time. It's a no brainer."

Peter looked into Carla's bright green eyes and found immediate comfort. He reached out and placed his hand lightly on her knee.

"Thank you."

The door opened; Toyah and Jamie re-entered the room. Jamie ran back to her mum and tried to climb onto her lap again, but Carla picked her up and sat her down on the sofa in-between herself and Peter.

Carla spoke softly into her daughter's ear.

"Why don't you tell your daddy about your pre-school?"

Carla smiled affectionately at the father and daughter duo as Jamie started to talk animatedly to Peter about her school, about her beloved teacher, her little friends, the class guinea pigs. Peter listened with rapt attention; it was obvious he was completely enamoured with his daughter.

The smile faded from Carla's face as she looked up and glanced across at Toyah who was staring back at her with what Carla could only surmise to be pure hatred in her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6: Getting to know you

**Chapter 6: Getting to know you**

"You sure you don't fancy a glass of red?"

Michelle held a wine bottle in mid-air and shot a questioning look at Carla who was sat on the other side of the bistro bar nursing a lemonade.

"I told you, no."

"What have you done with the real Carla Connor?"

"Ha ha."

Carla waited until Michelle had finished serving a customer before resuming their catch-up session.

"I am so glad Christmas and New Year's over, this place was so busy, I don't think I stopped once."

"Think of the money, Chelle."

"Yeah, well, we did need it. Still do."

Carla reached out and gently stroked Michelle's arm.

"I'm sick of talking about that, how's things going with Peter?"

"Actually, things are going really well. It was awkward at first, Jamie was a bit shy to start with, but now she's got to know him a bit better… We're making progress."

"And what about Toyah, what do you make of her?"

"Toyah? She's, umm…"

"You can be honest with me, you know?"

Carla laughed.

"Let's just say she's not Peter's usual type."

That's an understatement. I mean, Peter Barlow and Toyah Battersby, I can't imagine that's much fun, can you?"

"As long as they make each other happy."

Silence descended over the old friends as Carla momentarily got lost in her own thoughts.

"Hey, where'd you go?"

"Sorry, just thinking."

"Spill."

"I dunno, Chelle, I kinda feel out of place here these days. Like I don't fit anymore."

"Don't say that, I love having you here."

"Oh, Chelle, I love seeing you too, you know that. But everyone's got their own life and I'm not part of it. I mean, Kate's so wrapped up in Rana she hasn't got time for me. Johnny's more interested in being a grandad than a father."

Carla sighed.

"And Aidan?"

"Aidan? Aidan is mad at me because I won't invest in Underworld."

"I'm sorry you feel like that, babe. I guess that means you'll be heading back home soon?"

"I don't know, Chelle. Home is not without its own complications right now."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Why do I get the feeling you're holding back on me?"

"You know me, Chelle, I'm just a drama queen."

"So, let me get this straight. You don't wanna go home, but you don't wanna stay here either. What the hell are you doing, Carla?"

"I'm giving my daughter a father."

Carla turned slightly in her seat to watch her daughter who, at that moment, was having a daddy-daughter lunch date with Peter.

"How's the pasta?" Peter grinned as he asked the question. The sight of his daughter slurping spaghetti made his heart feel like it was about to burst out of his chest with joy.

"Yummy!"

"I remember your mum, spaghetti was one of the only things she could cook. Spaghetti from scratch. She was so proud of herself."

Peter got so temporarily lost in his own private memories, he didn't notice Jamie had stopped eating and was staring at him curiously.

"Daddy?"

Peter snapped back to reality at the sound of his daughter's voice.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"You went funny."

"Sorry. I was just thinking. You were telling me about your house."

"Mummy got me bunk beds so I can have sleepovers with my friends."

"Oh, wow, that's exciting. So who are your best friends?"

"Umm, there's Olivia and Phoebe. They sleep over all the time. And Sam stays a lot as well."

A sudden frown creased Jamie's forehead.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"It's Phoebe's birthday next week and she's having a dress-up party and I'm gonna miss it."

"You miss your home, don't you?"

Jamie nodded sadly.

"And Snowy will be missing me."

"Who's Snowy?"

"He's my cat."

"Let me guess, is he a white cat?"

"No, silly, he's a black cat."

Jamie laughed, an infectious sound that delighted Peter.

"You know, I can't tell if you're being serious or not."

Jamie didn't answer, she just grinned cheekily.

"Millie, she's our neighbour, she's feeding Snowy, but he's gonna get lonely without me, isn't he? Specially at night cause he always sleeps on my bed. And Millie's house is a long way away."

"So, you don't live in town?"

Jamie shook her head.

"Our house is in the middle of fields. And I can see the beach from my bedroom window."

"Do you go to the beach a lot?"

Jamie nodded, again with a touch of sadness.

"Every day. Even in winter. Me and mummy go for walks."

"I bet you miss that, too?"

"Yeah."

"I tell you what, how about you and me go to the beach tomorrow? It won't be your beach, but I promise you we'll still have fun. What do ya say?"

Jamie's face lit up.

"Really? Can mummy come?"

Jamie didn't notice the momentary flicker of hesitation cross Peter's face.

"Of course mummy can come."

Jamie twisted around in her seat and shouted across the restaurant.

"Mummy! Mummy!"

Carla slid off the bar stool she was perched on and hurried over to Jamie; kissing her affectionately on the head, she gently chastised her daughter.

"What have I said about shouting inside, Jamie."

"Mummy, daddy's taking me to the beach tomorrow and he said you can come as well."

"Did he now?" Carla smirked at Peter.

"I hope that's okay," Peter feared Carla would think he was taking liberties. "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"No, mummy has to come too. Please mummy."

Carla looked uncertainly at Peter.

"Come on mummy," Peter teased, a look of mock pleading on his face to match Jamie's.

"How can anyone resist those faces."

Carla kissed Jamie's upturned face.

"Looks like we're going to the beach, baby."


	7. Chapter 7: The winds of change

**Chapter 7: The winds of change**

Carla expertly slowed her sexy black Mercedes and glided to a stop by the side entrance of the Rovers. Before she could climb out of the car, Aidan had spotted her and was jogging over to bend her ear.

"Not now, Aidan."

But Aidan wasn't going to be put off.

"Just one minute, please Carla."

Jamie, happy and excited at the thought of spending the day at the beach with both of her parents, had bounded out of the car as soon as it stopped and had rushed to knock on the door to her dad's house.

"Well, make it quick, we've got plans," Carla had decided to humour her brother, if only for a moment.

"Look, I know you said you didn't want to invest –"

"I meant it."

"Just look at these figures," Aidan held a stuffed A4 envelope out to Carla, but Carla left him hanging.

The door opened to reveal Peter, almost as visibly excited at the day ahead as his daughter.

"Good morning, beautiful."

He bent down and picked her up, hugging her tight and spinning her around. Jamie squealed with delight.

Placing Jamie back down on her feet, Peter turned to Toyah who had been lurking unseen in the shadows of the hallway, watching. Peter kissed her on the cheek.

"Alright, love, I'll see you tonight. You sure you're right to look after the bar by yourself?"

"Yes. I'll be fine. Now go and enjoy yourself."

"Alright, Aidan?" as Peter led Jamie to the car.

"Peter."

"Listen, Carla, I'll make you a deal. You read what's in this envelope with an open mind and, if you still don't wanna invest after that, then I'll never mention it again."

"You promise? Not a word. Ever again?"

"Never."

Carla snatched the envelope out of Aidan's hand.

"You got a deal."

Aidan couldn't help but grin as Carla slid into the driver's seat; Peter and Jamie were already buckled up and impatient to get going. Carla shot Aidan a look of mock exasperation as she drove away; she couldn't tell if she was more annoyed or amused by Aidan's confident grin which he hadn't quite managed to wipe off his face as the car disappeared around the corner.

The happy little family of Carla, Peter and Jamie soon found themselves a world away from the cobbled and often claustrophobic streets of Weatherfield. Peter had directed them to a lesser-known beach away from the main tourist beaches where they could enjoy the contrasting calmness and wildness of the ocean in relative peace.

Carla had stopped off at the shops on the way to Peter's that morning to buy some cheap plastic bucket-and-spade sets which Jamie was eager to make use of straight away to build a sandcastle.

But her parent's efforts weren't quite up to Jamie's exacting standards. She marched between the two of them, barking orders about everything to do with building a sandcastle, from where to place their buckets of sand, to how hard they needed to compact the sand, and how much water should be mixed with the sand to provide optimum strength to the finished construction.

Peter laughed at his daughter's display of bossiness.

"Like mother, like daughter, ey?" Peter winked at Carla.

"Oi! Enough of that. So I taught our daughter to go after what she wants. What of it?"

"Actually I think it's kinda sweet. She's like your cute little mini me."

Carla took a few deep breaths and sat down on the sand; she'd over-exerted herself lugging those buckets of sand up from the water's edge. Her exhaustion hadn't gone unnoticed by Peter.

"You okay?"

"Me? Yeah, just gettin' old, ya know."

"You? Old?" Peter laughed. "Give me a break. You, Carla Connor, are one of those blessed few who've drunk from the fountain of youth."

"Are you trying to make me sick, Peter?"

"It was a bit of a saccharine sentiment wasn't it?"

"Yeah, a little bit."

They both laughed; Carla's laugh ended with a series of noisy shallow breaths as she desperately sucked life-giving air into her lungs. She turned her body slightly away from Peter; she didn't want him to see or hear. She closed her eyes in an effort to keep the rising nausea at bay.

Carla opened her eyes to the sound of Peter's voice.

"You know you should get stuck in before I finish the lot of these."

Carla sat up; Peter had laid out their lunch of fish-and-chips in the middle of the picnic blanket he had spread over the sand.

"I'm not hungry."

She looked over at their daughter who was making a game out of running towards the water before rushing backwards as the waves that were lapping onto the sand threatened to engulf her feet.

"Don't get your feet wet, darling."

"I won't mummy, I'm too fast for the water."

"She really loves the beach doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she was always a water baby, then when we moved down south, she couldn't get enough of it."

"She told me she misses it, the beach; that you two go every day when you're at home."

"It's kind of our special place. When we first moved down there I was, umm, not in the best head space, and, you know when it feels like the walls are closing in on you and you just wanna run away and scream? When I felt like that I went to the beach. But, the funny thing was, when I got there, I didn't feel like screaming no more. I felt, I dunno, at peace."

"It sounds like the two of you have the perfect home down there, the perfect life." Peter desperately tried to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"I guess."

"You'll wanna go back soon."

Peter spoke in an almost whisper as if saying it too loud would somehow make it a reality.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No. The opposite actually. If it was up to me, you'd stay forever. But it's not up to me, is it?"

"Jamie's got friends there, a school she loves. I've got a business."

"It feels like I'm losing you, the both of you, all over again. And it's killing me."

Carla turned to look at Peter's anguished face.

"I will make sure you see her. You know that, don't you?"

Peter merely nodded; he didn't trust himself to speak.

Silence descended over the two ex-lovers, ex-husband, ex-wife, current parents, always parents.

Peter was the first to break the silence.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask. Your cat, Snowy."

"What about him?"

"I couldn't quite get the truth from Jamie. Is Snowy black or white?"

Carla laughed. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it to Peter.

Peter looked; a photo of Jamie cuddling a black cat. Carla reached over and swiped to the next photo, another photo of Jamie and Snowy.

"You're welcome to have a look through the album. If you like?"

"You sure?"

"Of course, that's my Jamie album. And you are Jamie's dad."

So Peter happily swiped through the album. His eyes devoured the scenes played out within while Carla gave a running commentary on their life in Devon. Their house and garden; their little knick-knacks and pictures that made it a home; of course, the king of the house, Snowy; the little path that ran from their back gate through the fields and down to the local beach. Then there were the photos of Jamie's little friends; the tea parties they threw; the dolls they played with; the cat they tormented. And through it all, the proud and loving mum.

"Mummy!"

Carla looked up to where Jamie was standing; she had obviously ventured too close to the water and had now paid the price with two very wet feet. Carla rummaged in the large tote bag that lay on the picnic blanket, pulled out a towel and a spare pair of socks and walked them over to Jamie.

Seizing his opportunity, Peter exited the photo album titled "Jamie" and opened one called "Spain 2017". The album was obviously the documentation of a family holiday and, at first, Peter enjoyed looking at photos of Carla and Jamie, tanned and smiling at the beach, in local restaurants, exploring the historical laneways while wearing ridiculous floppy hats.

But then he swiped to a photo that made Peter freeze. He could have sworn his heart physically stopped beating when he saw it: Carla, smiling, no, beaming, both her arms wrapped around a man; his arm around her shoulder.

The man was undoubtedly beautiful; drop-dead gorgeous in fact, Peter wasn't ashamed to admit it. And he was tall; Peter hated him for that. Beneath the gently stretched fabric of the man's t-shirt was the hint of a well-toned physique; while his smooth chocolate brown skin was a strikingly beautiful contrast to Carla's.

They could just be friends. Friends hug each other, right? Peter clung desperately to this hope.

He swiped to the next photo and his heart sank. Friends didn't kiss each other. Not like that.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Jamie was running across the sand as fast as her little socked feet could carry her. She stopped right in front of Peter and whispered excitedly into his face.

"Mummy said I could have ice cream."

Carla arrived back at the picnic blanket at that moment, out of breath and clutching her lower back in pain.

"We better get going then, sweetheart."

Ignoring Carla, Peter picked up the picnic blanket and proceeded to shake it vigorously, sending a shower of sand over Carla. She choked on the sand but received no word of apology from Peter. In fact, he had already taken Jamie by the hand and was leading her back to the car. Perplexed by the sudden change in Peter's behaviour, Carla picked up her tote bag and trudged towards the beach stairs, cursing under her breath as she slipped on the shifting sands.

Carla still couldn't get her head around Peter's rudeness as she sat in the car waiting for father and daughter to return with their ice creams. The only explanation she could come up with was his devastation at the thought of her and Jamie going back home to Devon.

Carla suddenly reached for the glove box and, on opening it, retrieved the envelope she'd accepted that morning from Aiden. She was true to her word; she read the contents with an open mind.

Bang! Carla was startled at the impact on her driver's side window, but smiled when she saw that it was only Jamie, half-eaten ice cream in one hand and a big sticky grin on her face. Carla wound down the window and-

"We got you one too, mummy."

Peter handed Carla an ice cream; she looked up at him with a confused and questioning expression but all she got in return was eyes that spoke of, she wasn't sure, disappointment?

"Thanks."

She took the ice cream out of his hands and absentmindedly licked the cold, creamy confection.

The drive home was awkward to say the least. Carla didn't understand why Peter was acting strangely, but was thankful that Jamie had fallen asleep on the back seat and didn't have to feel the tension between her mum and dad. As they pulled up outside the Rovers, Carla turned to Peter.

"Do you mind looking after her for an hour or so? I've got an errand to run."

Peter accepted with such eagerness that he was out of the car and carrying his sleeping daughter inside without so much as a "by your leave" to Carla. But Carla shook it off, she'd deal with him later. Right now, she was on a mission.

"So?"

Aidan was impatient. Carla had barely entered the front door of the Nazir's where Aidan was currently lodging before he began his interrogation.

"Did you read it?"

"Yes, I read it."

"And? What did you think? I know it's risky, but if we get it right it could pay off big time."

"I agree with you."

"You what?"

"I said, I agree."

"Does that mean…?"

"I'm going to invest? Yes. On two conditions."

"Anything."

"One, no office romances, okay?"

"Agreed. And two?"

"I won't be a sleeping partner, Aidan. I wanna be part of the management.

Aidan was taken aback.

"But, don't you have a business back in Devon? It's gonna be pretty hard to run Underworld here in Weatherfield while you're living in Devon."

"That's the thing. Me and Jamie, we're not going back to Devon. We're staying here. For good."


	8. Chapter 8: Back in business

**Chapter 8: Back in business**

Carla methodically sorted through the various plates, bowls, cups, glasses, cutlery, and the like, that was scattered over the kitchen counter of her and Jamie's new Victoria Court flat. Carla hadn't initially relished the thought of living in the building again, not after the last time, but she couldn't deny the flat was perfect for her and her daughter's needs.

Carla suddenly gripped the edge of the counter top as a wave of nausea swept over her. She wished it was the nerves of moving back to the street that was making her feel so ill, but, as much as she hated the thought for herself, she knew the move was the best thing for Jamie.

She looked up at Jamie, who was running around the flat, highly excitable about her new home, and talking animatedly to her mum, to herself, even to Snowy the cat who was stretched out luxuriantly in front of the fire.

Normally a sight that would warm her heart, Carla hadn't the patience for it today.

"Jamie! Give it a rest will you!"

Jamie stopped in her tracks and stared at her mum, her eyes widened in shock and began to fill with tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks at any moment.

Carla rushed over to Jamie and wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout. I've got a banging headache. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm so sorry."

Carla pulled away from Jamie, rested her hands on the girl's shoulders, and looked her in the eye.

"Do you forgive me?"

Jamie nodded. Carla smiled and stroked Jamie's cheek gently.

The security buzzer sounded.

Before Carla could react, Jamie ran to the intercom and answered it.

"Hello?"

A wide smile spread instantaneously over Jamie's face.

"Okay, come in."

Jamie pressed the security door release button.

"Who is it?"

"It's daddy."

"Oh, right."

Carla walked to the front door and unlatched it.

Moments later, there was a soft knock at the door before it swung open to reveal Peter laden with housewarming gifts: a huge bunch of flowers for Carla and a string of mini Chinese lantern lights in shades of pinks and white for Jamie's bedroom.

"Thank you, daddy."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

"Can we hang them up now?"

Jamie looked around at her mum.

"If your dad's got time," Carla caught Peter's eye. "What? I ain't doing it."

"Of course I do," Peter tousled Jamie's hair affectionately.

Jamie happily carried the lanterns towards her bedroom while Peter hung back to talk to Carla.

"Hey, are you okay? You don't look too good."

"She's got a banging headache," Jamie piped up before she exited the room.

"You try unpacking in this mess with a four-year-old tearing around the flat non-stop."

"And that's all, is it?"

"Yes. You better get in there, she doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Peter laughed. He was about to walk away from Carla when he turned to look at her, a deadly serious expression on his face.

"Hey, I, umm, I don't really understand why you decided to move back here, but, umm… thank you. I am so grateful for this chance to be a real dad to Jamie."

Peter reached out and took Carla's hand in his.

"Really, it means everything to me."

Carla didn't trust herself to speak, so she just smiled and nodded.

"Daddy!"

Peter dropped Carla's hand and turned around; his precocious and impatient daughter was waiting for him. Peter turned back to Carla for a moment.

"She really is just like her mother."

Peter walked towards where Jamie was waiting for him.

"She's perfect."

Carla grinned to herself and moved back towards the kitchen counter when the buzzer rang again.

"I know you're busy, but I brought wine."

Aidan had sauntered into the flat, a bottle of wine in one hand and his laptop in the other.

"Oh, Aidan, I'm not sure if I'm up for shop talk tonight."

Aidan laughed.

"As if you don't live for business, sis. Come on, you know you want to."

"Fine."

Jamie stood in the middle of her bedroom and directed Peter where to hang her new lanterns. She'd decided on stringing them across the wall above her bed, but was being very precise about the exact position. Peter patiently held the lanterns aloft, moving them an inch this way, or an inch that way, depending on the command of his daughter. Far from being annoyed or frustrated, Peter was simply loving spending time with Jamie. He'd missed out on so much in her short life that he now treasured every moment he got to spend with her.

"There."

"Here?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Daddy!" Jamie wasn't messing about.

Peter chuckled to himself on hearing his daughter's tone; she really was her mother's daughter. Peter's laughter turned to a heavy sigh.

Loving the daughter that reminded him so much of the mother brought back all those old familiar feelings; dangerous feelings. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on them; it wasn't fair on Toyah, or the baby they were expecting.

Peter finished hanging the string of lanterns and tried to pull off the tag.

"Where do you keep your scissors, sweetheart?"

Peter turned to look at Jamie; Jamie shrugged.

"Back in a minute."

Peter walked out of Jamie's bedroom, but paused at the entrance to the living area, surprised to see Aidan and Carla deep in conversation.

"Aidan, you know we can't take all the machinists back on, not with this new business model. If they want a job, they'll have to reapply."

"That's gonna go down well, they already all hate me for the factory shutting down in the first place."

"Trust me, they'll get over it when you wave a steady pay check in their face."

"And the ones that miss out?"

"We're not a charity, Aidan, we're gonna need the best and if they can't cut it –"

"What do you mean, you're not rehiring all the machinists? People are relying on coming back to those jobs."

Carla and Aidan turned to look at Peter, who was now striding towards them.

"Peter, this really isn't any of your business."

"Maybe not. But I am part of the community, a community that relies on the jobs the factory provides. Jobs that you want to, by the sound of it, take away forever?"

Carla and Aidan exchanged a look; Aidan raised his eyebrow and leant back in his chair. He was happy for Carla to deal with this.

"Listen, Peter, you can't be so naïve to think that a pure manufacturing operation based in England can compete with the likes of China or Bangladesh or countless other countries that pay their workers a pittance. It's just not realistic."

"So, what? You're just giving up on that market completely? Without a fight?"

"No. The market's giving up on us. If we reopen Underworld using that same dated business model, we'll be bankrupt in one, two years max. Then everyone will be out of work again and we'll be back to square one. But without the funds to start up again."

"Okay. What's the new business model then?"

Carla glanced at Aidan; he shrugged, this was up to Carla.

"We stop making knickers for other people. We relaunch Underworld as a fashion house in its own right. We bring in a big-name designer, proper schmick marketing and branding. We're talking couture here, Peter, a real luxury brand. You know, we wanna take our collections to the runways of fashion week, get the celebs wearing our stuff, glossy photo shoots in Vogue. The whole shebang."

Carla looked at Peter; she could tell he was listening with an open mind.

"So, we'll be producing less stock, but of a much higher quality. It's all about lifestyle aspirations. We're not gonna need the same number of machinists. And the ones we do take back on, well, we're only gonna take the best. Like I said, we're not a charity."

"There'll be different types of jobs though," Aidan piped up. "It's true, we're gonna lose a lot of the more manual type jobs, but we're gonna be hiring some new highly skilled staff, you know, designers, IT, marketing, social media. It's gonna be better for the whole community in the long run."

Peter mulled over what he'd just heard. Aidan and Carla watched him anxiously; they weren't ready for their plans to be made public. Not yet.

"I guess you know what you're doing."

Carla and Aidan gave each other the briefest look of relief.

"I actually just came out here for a pair of scissors."

"Second drawer down," Carla directed Peter towards the kitchen drawers.

After Peter had headed back to Jamie's room, scissors in hand, Aidan turned to Carla, a worried look on his face.

"Can we trust him?"

"Peter's sound. Don't worry about him."

"I hope you're right. _We_ need to be the ones that control how this gets out. I mean, we're gonna need to do a lot of damage limitation as it is, but if Peter's gonna blab –"

"Aidan. Stop stressing. He won't say anything."

Aidan sighed; he knew he needed to manage his anxiety levels better, but sometimes they got the better of him.

"Are you gonna crack open the wine then? Or are you waiting til I go so you can neck it all yourself?"

Carla looked dubiously at the bottle of wine, wondering if there was any way she could get out of drinking any.

"You know me too well, little brother. I guess I can spare a glass for you. A small one, mind you."

Carla retrieved a pair of wine glasses from the cupboard and poured them each a glass.

Later that evening, the bottle and glasses stood empty on the table. Aidan sat in silence, engrossed in the spreadsheet displayed on his laptop screen.

In Jamie's bedroom, Carla sat by the bed, watching her daughter sleep. A comforting glow emanated from the night light on the bedside table, gently illuminating Jamie's cheek as her head rested on her pillow, her little hands pressed together underneath her face. Curled up at the foot of the bed was Snowy, guardian to his little mistress as she slept.

Carla leant over her the bed and kissed Jamie gently on the forehead. She patted Snowy before padding out of the room, turning to look one last time at Jamie, her heart almost bursting with both love and another bittersweet feeling she couldn't quite put her finger on. Loss? Perhaps.

Carla paused at the entrance to the living area; Aidan was as yet oblivious to her presence. She gripped the door frame, petrified for a moment that she would fall to the floor without the support.

Aidan glanced up at Carla.

"How is she?"

Carla took a deep breath, rallied herself, and walked towards Aidan.

"Fast asleep. Perfect."

"What? Perfect because she's fast asleep?"

"Ha ha, very funny."

Aidan picked up his empty wine glass and waved it in the air.

"I can't believe I have to hint for you of all people to crack open another bottle."

Carla took the glass off Aidan and walked to the kitchen.

Aidan remained focused on his laptop. Until he heard the sound of smashing glass and something heavy crashing to the floor. He whipped his head around to see his sister lying unconscious on her kitchen floor, surrounded by shattered glass.

"Carla!"

Aidan jumped up from his seat and rushed to where Carla lay unconscious. He knelt down and stroked her forehead. 

"Carla?"

No response.

"Oh god. Oh god, Carla, please wake up."

He picked up one of her hands and rubbed it between his; he was clueless, he had no idea what to do for the best.

An idea, remembered perhaps from a movie, entered his head, and he acted on it immediately. Dousing a tea towel in cold water, he gently patted Carla's forehead with it. He had no clue what the point of this was, but he had to do something. Miracle of miracles, it seemed to work; Carla groaned. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at Aidan, groggy and disorientated.

"What happened?"

"You, umm, you fainted."

"Help me."

Carla held out a hand to Aidan. He took it in his and helped her to a sitting position.

"Careful, there's broken glass everywhere."

"Not my designer wine glasses," Carla tried to make a joke.

Aidan supported Carla as she gingerly rose to her feet and helped her over to the sofa.

"Here you go."

Aidan had brought Carla a glass of water. She took it from him gratefully.

"Ta."

Aidan sat down in the armchair opposite Carla.

"So, what was all that about?"

"You know me, workaholic, mother, no time for myself, too much wine, not enough food." Carla knew she was rambling, but she had no intention of telling Aidan the truth.

"I don't believe you."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No. I'm calling you scared. I saw it in your eyes when you came to. And I wanna know why."

"Aidan, I've just moved from one side of the country to the other with a four-year-old and a cat. I'm exhausted. That's all."

Aidan leant back in the armchair.

"I better get comfortable then."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm not leaving until you tell me the truth."

"Fine."

Carla leant back, relaxing into the sofa. Aidan had no idea how stubborn she could be.

Carla and Aidan sat in silence, engaged in a battle of wills.

"You're so annoying."

"I know. It runs in the family."

Silence once more.

Carla began to waver. Why was she being so stubborn? She'd kept this bottled up inside for months now, why not tell someone? Why not share the load? She wanted to. She really did. But she had grown so self-reliant, so scared of being a burden, that she didn't know how to let her guard down anymore.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

"Carla," Aidan had seen it.

It took all of Carla's strength to lift her head and look at Aidan. It was now or never.

"I've got kidney disease."

Now that the first reveal was out of the way, Carla felt more confident.

"Actually, it's kidney failure."

Aidan struggled to understand the implications of what Carla was saying.

"Kidney failure? What does that mean exactly? Do you, umm, do you need, umm…"

"A transplant? Yes. I'm on the waiting list."

"But that could take years, right?"

"Yeah. That's why I start dialysis next week."

Aidan didn't know what to say. All he could do was go to his sister and hold her. His gesture opened the floodgates for both of them; soon tears were streaming down both of their faces at the thought of what the future held for Carla.

"I'm so sorry."

Carla sobbed into Aidan's chest; the relief of finally unburdening herself was almost cathartic for her. All of her anxiety, however, seemed to transfer to Aidan. He took on the burden; the worry.

"I'm gonna go."

"What?"

"I'm gonna go to the hospital first thing in the morning. I'm gonna get tested. See if I'm a match."

"Aidan, no, that's not why I told you. I never wanted to beg for a kidney."

"I know that, of course I know that. But I want to do this for you. Please let me do this for you."

Carla nodded tearfully. Even if Aidan wasn't a match, she was so grateful that he cared enough to offer.

"Thank you."


	9. Chapter 9: Truth will out

**Chapter 9: Truth will out**

**Jamie**

Jamie ran full pelt down the cobbles, tears streaming down her face. In her terror, she could think of only one place to go; one place she could feel safe and find help.

She burst in through the front door of the Rovers, the first time she'd been in the public bar area of her dad's home.

Overwhelmed by the alien sights and sounds that confronted her, Jamie froze, small and alone, in the entrance.

Steve was the first to notice her.

"Peter."

Peter turned to Steve, still unaware that his daughter was stood, scared and distressed, mere steps from his station behind the bar.

"Same again, mate?"

Steve nodded towards Jamie.

"You've got a visitor."

Peter saw Jamie for the first time. Immediately he rushed around the bar to where she was stood rooted to the spot and crouched down to her level.

"Hey, baby girl, what's wrong? Where's your mum?"

"Mummy."

Jamie began crying; Peter felt the panic rise within him.

"Sweetheart, where's your mum?"

"Mummy… Mummy fell over. I couldn't wake her up."

"Show me."

Peter took Jamie's hand in his as she led him out of the Rovers, down Victoria Street and into the alley by the Victoria Court main entrance.

Jamie pulled free from Peter's grasp and ran to her mum who was lying unconscious, slumped against a wall.

"Mummy, please wake up."

Jamie sobbed; she held her mum's hand tight as her dad made a frantic phone call.

"Ambulance. Victoria Court Apartments, outside the front entrance. Hurry, please."

Peter rushed to Carla's side.

"Carla? Sweetheart?"

He turned to his daughter.

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

"Was she feeling poorly?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry, daddy."

"Darling, it's okay. Come here."

Peter pulled Jamie into a cuddle.

"She's gonna be okay, baby. She has to be okay."

Jamie sobbed into her dad's chest. She felt safe in his arms, but she still wanted her mum; she always wanted her mum.

The sirens wailed, faint at first, but soon Jamie covered her ears, the sound was so piercing. Her dad let her go as he spoke to the paramedics. Jamie stood there alone, watching as they lifted her mum onto a stretcher and lay her in the back of the ambulance.

"What's going on? Is that Carla?"

Jamie turned to see her Uncle Aidan rushing towards the ambulance.

"We don't know. She fell over, or fainted, I'm not sure. Jamie came to fetch me from the pub."

Aidan looked down at Jamie before taking Peter by the arm and leading him out of his niece's earshot.

For what felt like forever to Jamie, but was in reality no more than a minute or two, she stood lost and scared, watching as her mum was taken away, to where she didn't know.

Then comforting arms were around her; Uncle Aidan was there, hugging her, kissing her tenderly on her head.

"Where's mummy gone?"

"Mummy's gone to the hospital. I'm going to take you there as well, okay?"

Jamie nodded.

"Where's daddy?"

"He's gone with your mummy in the ambulance."

"Is mummy going to die?"

Aidan didn't know what to say; all he could do was pull Jamie in for another hug.

**Peter**

It was just another day for Peter behind the bar of the Rovers. He had no idea that his life was about to be turned upside down.

But when he saw his daughter, he knew immediately that something was very wrong.

The fear that had threatened to overcome him as he and Jamie ran towards Victoria Court was nothing compared to the cold vice-like grip of sheer terror that had encompassed his heart when he saw Carla lying unconscious on the ground. Carla, the woman who had always been so strong, so resilient, was now at her weakest.

The mental images of the last time he'd seen Carla so vulnerable flashed through his mind; that night, over six years ago now, when she'd taken an overdose of sleeping pills, washed down with copious amounts of vodka, and almost died. He'd been terrified then of losing her. Now he didn't know how to feel, he didn't know what was wrong. That scared him more than anything; the unknown.

"What's going on? Is that Carla?"

Peter looked up to see Aidan approaching him.

"We don't know. She fell over, or fainted, I'm not sure. Jamie came to fetch me from the pub."

Taking Peter by the arm, Aidan guided him to one side.

"Listen, umm, Carla begged me not to say anything, but I reckon this changes things."

"What are you on about?"

"It's Carla. I know why she collapsed."

"Well spit it out then."

"She's got kidney failure."

Peter felt like he'd been kicked in the guts; as if Aidan's words had the power to rip his heart right out of his chest. His head span; he reached out and gripped Aidan's arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Jamie. Take care of Jamie."

"Of course. What –"

"I'll go with Carla."

Peter staggered away from Aidan and climbed into the back of the ambulance.

"She's got kidney failure."

"I'm sorry?"

Peter had spoken too softly for the paramedics to understand.

"She's got kidney failure."

No matter how many times Peter said it, he couldn't quite believe in the truth of the statement. He couldn't. How could someone so young, so beautiful, someone with everything to live for, be dying.

The next few hours for Peter were like walking in a daze; he barely remembered arriving at the hospital, or the anxious wait while Carla was in with the doctors as he paced the hospital corridors.

Finally, he was allowed to see Carla. As he stood outside her hospital room, looking in on the suddenly frail woman sleeping inside, the reality of Carla's condition suddenly hit him. The realisation that she might soon be gone from the world, his world, almost overcame him; he wanted to run away, to hide, to drink.

He wanted to drink.

The thought of his daughter was the only thing that stopped him; the only thing that gave him the strength to enter that hospital room, to sit by Carla's bed, to hold her hand as she slept.

**Carla**

Carla heard her daughter's panicked voice calling for her.

"Mummy! Mummy!"

That precious voice quickly faded; soon she heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing.

Carla's eyes flickered open. The hardness of the cold pavement had been replaced by soft warmth. She felt someone stroking her hand.

"Jamie?"

"No, love, it's me, it's Peter."

Carla focused her gaze on the dark blur sat by her bedside.

"Peter?"

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

Carla tried to sit up but struggled to catch her breath.

"Easy now."

"Help me up."

Peter assisted Carla to a sitting position, propping pillows behind her back for her to recline on.

"How're you feeling?"

"A bit silly to be honest. Do you…?"

"Aidan told me."

"Right."

"I wish I'd heard it from you."

"I didn't want to worry anyone." 

"I'm not just anyone, Carla."

"I was going to tell you in my own time. After…"

"After what?"

"After you'd gotten to know Jamie better. That's why we moved back here. Why I chose now to bring her back into your life."

"What do you mean?"

"I needed you to build a relationship with her before… you know."

"Oh, love, don't talk like that. You're gonna get through this. You have to stay positive –"

"Peter, please just listen to me."

Peter stopped talking; instead he looked at her with those soulful brown eyes of his. Carla felt weak at the sight of those eyes that had the power to see right through her, into her very soul. Carla forced herself to forget about Peter's eyes, for now. She needed to make him understand.

"I need to know that, after I'm gone, Jamie is going to be surrounded by family that will love her and look after her."

"Carla –"

"Peter, she's going to need you. Okay? Promise me you'll look after her."

"Please don't talk like this, like you've given up."

"Peter! I need you to promise. Please."

Tears slipped unchecked down Peter's face. He shook his head; he couldn't accept what was happening, what Carla was asking of him.

"Carla, no."

Carla reached out and gripped his hand in hers.

"Please, Peter."

They looked at each other; Carla silently pleaded with him, her green eyes flashing with a fiery passion. Peter couldn't help but think of those eyes, the light in them extinguished forever. He couldn't bear it; but he had to. He had to for the sake of their daughter. He tearfully nodded his head.

"I promise."

A knock at the door; Carla looked up to see Aidan.

"I hope you don't mind, I couldn't keep her away."

Aidan ushered Jamie into the room; she looked shyly at her mum. The sight of all those wires and tubes attached to her mum scared her, but then Carla smiled at her and all her fears dissipated.

Jamie ran to the bed and climbed up onto it. She crawled into her mum's arms and cuddled up to her, burying her head, like an infant, into Carla's breast.

"Hey baby."

Carla wrapped her arms around her daughter, stroked her hair and kissed her softly.

Carla looked up at Peter and mouthed the words "Thank you".


	10. Chapter 10: Fear and failure

**Trigger warning: We're talking mental health in this chapter, including references to self-harm and suicide. Please don't read this chapter if this will negatively impact your own mental health. I'll do a brief recap at the top of the next chapter to let you know what happens so you don't miss out on any key narrative points.**

**Chapter 10: Fear and failure**

"So, how often do you have to do this?"

Johnny looked horrified at the tubing that was extracting the blood from Carla's body, processing it through the machine that was filtering it clean, and then pumping the clean blood through even more tubing back into her body through the specially inserted catheter near his daughter's neck.

"Three times a week, about four hours each time," Carla was matter-of-fact.

"I feel so useless."

"Please don't say that. The fact is, there's nothing you can do. There's nothing anyone can do."

"I could give you one of my kidneys. Not that they'd be much use, their next stop's the knackers yard."

Both father and daughter laughed briefly before the reality of the situation hit them hard and their laughter abruptly died.

"Let's just hope Aidan comes through, ey?"

"Yeah," Carla wasn't so sure. She detested the thought of begging her brother for something so life-changing. Not just for her; for him even more so.

An awkward silence fell; Johnny fidgeted in his seat.

"Oh, love, I feel so useless."

Carla sighed in frustration.

"You've already said that, Johnny. Look, if this –" Carla waved at the dialysis machinery "– if this is making you uncomfortable, you don't have to stay –"

"No! I wanna be here, I wanna support you, I just… I don't know how. I don't…"

"What? Spit it out, Johnny."

"You know I love you, don't you?"

"I guess."

"Well I do. But… I don't – we don't – we don't really know each other, do we? I mean, not really, not like I do Kate and Aidan. Or you with Rob?"

What was Johnny playing at? Carla wondered. Did he really think this was helping her?

"What do you expect? I mean, you did ignore me for the first forty years of my life."

Johnny was taken aback at the sudden brutality of Carla's words.

"I, umm, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"I thought we'd gotten past all that?"

"No, we just don't talk about it."

"You wanna talk about it now?"

"No, I don't wanna talk about it now. I want you to stop wallowing in self-pity over what a terrible father you've been."

"I'm not wall –"

"It might've escaped your notice, Johnny, but I'm busy dying over here. I don't have the energy to deal with your paternal guilt."

An alarm on the dialysis machine sounded.

"Love, you need to calm down."

"Don't call me love."

A nurse rushed into the room and examined the machine.

"What's wrong?"

"Your blood pressure's a little high."

"That's easily fixed," Carla turned to Johnny. "You should go."

"Carla, please."

Carla lost her patience.

"Get out!"

"I'm sorry." Johnny retreated from the room as tears fell down Carla's cheeks.

* * *

A soft knock at the door woke Carla from the fitful sleep she'd fallen into not long after her argument with Johnny.

She slowly opened her eyes; Peter.

"Hey, how you doing?"

"I'm fine. Bored. A bit weird actually."

"Weird? How so?"

Carla nodded at the dialysis machine.

"Watching my blood outside my body being pumped through a machine. It's weird."

Peter laughed. He sat down on the end of Carla's bed and gave her leg a friendly squeeze through the blankets that covered her body.

"All by your lonesome?"

"Johnny was here but, umm, we had words and I told him to do one."

"Oh?"

"I might've overreacted."

"You overreact? Never."

Peter couldn't help but smirk; of course Carla reacted.

"Shut up. Or I'll kick you out and all."

Peter didn't push; he just waited until Carla was ready to talk.

"I feel like maybe I was being selfish. By not indulging his guilt."

"Guilt? Over what?"

"Him being a useless dad to me growing up."

"You've every right to be angry at him for that."

"But he was right, we'd gotten past that ages ago."

"Are you sure?"

"No. It was more I stopped talking about it. I didn't wanna make a fuss. I mean, of course I'm not gonna get over it just like that."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"The stupid thing is, that's not really why I was upset. I _was_ being selfish in not caring about how he felt. Because I don't know how else to get through this. I've got just enough energy to worry about what's happening to me, and what's gonna happen to Jamie. That's it. I'm at capacity, you know?"

Peter held Carla's hand in his.

"I know."

"Peter," Carla's voice dropped to barely a whisper.

"What is it, love?"

"I am so scared."

Again, the tears started to flow down Carla's cheeks.

"You know I've been in some pretty scary situations before. But they all came out of nowhere. All of a sudden. They happened. And then they were over. Tony, the bistro robbery, even Frank. But this. This is so much worse. To feel your body slowly shutting down, slowly dying, and not be able to do a damn thing to stop it. That kind of fear, it doesn't go away; it lives with you, in here."

Carla tapped her abdomen, just under her breast.

"It's the most terrifying thing I can think of."

"Oh, love," Peter didn't know what to say.

Carla didn't need him to say anything; just him being there holding her hand was enough.

* * *

Aidan stared at the consultant in shock and disbelief.

"No. You've got it wrong. I'm a match."

"Physically, yes, you are. But the team have got serious concerns about your mental health. Your psychological assessment report shows that –"

"I'm not crazy!"

"Aidan, that's not what I'm saying. Donating a kidney is a huge decision. It's life-altering. We don't feel that you're in the right frame of mind to be making those kinds of decisions."

"Why does it even matter? Surely if I'm a physical match, then that should be enough?"

"We have to take into account every aspect of the donors –"

"Don't you understand, my sister is going to die if she doesn't get a new kidney."

"I'm aware of that, but that's not my primary concern. It's my job to look after _your_ best interests and _your_ welfare. I'm on your side, Aidan."

"My best interests? It's in my best interests for my sister to stay alive. That's all I care about."

"I understand she's undergoing dialysis –"

"That's just a stop-gap."

"– And she's on the waiting list –"

"Which could take years. I'm here now. I want to give her a kidney now."

"Aidan, I'm going to refer you to a psychiatrist –"

"You're not listening to me!"

Aidan stood up abruptly.

"Why won't you listen to me?!"

The consultant held out a business card to Aidan.

"Like I said, I'm referring you to a psychiatrist. They'll be able to give you the help you need."

Aidan snatched the card out of the consultant's hand and tore it to shreds.

"Unless they're willing to cut me open, take out a kidney and put it in my sister then they can't help me."

He tossed the tiny pieces of business card at the consultant.

"You're all useless! You're meant to save lives. But you've just given my sister a death sentence!"

Aidan turned and stormed out of the consultant's office.

Aidan stumbled down the hallways of the hospital, unseeing, in a daze. He had no idea where he was going, but, as if by a miracle, he ended up outside Carla's room.

He stood by the door, he couldn't bring himself to open it, to see the look on Carla's face when he told her he'd failed.

He was a failure; he knew it. How could he let her down like this? How could his own mind let her down like this? He was useless – thump; he hit himself on the head with the heel of his palm – he was a failure – thump; he hit himself again – he didn't deserve to live – thump, thump, thump. He dropped his head to his hands and sobbed.

Finally, he composed himself. He knew he couldn't let Carla, not anyone, see his mask slip, not even a bit. He took a deep breath and slowly pushed open the door to Carla's hospital room.

Carla looked up and smiled when she saw Aidan.

"Well?"

Aidan looked nervously at Peter who was still sat on the edge of Carla's bed.

"Oh, I'll, umm, I'll give you two a minute."

"Thanks," Aidan was grateful to Peter, who quietly slipped out of the room.

Aidan took the few short steps to Carla's bedside. He wished the distance was many miles rather than mere steps; he wasn't ready to break his sister's heart.

Aidan sat down; he looked down.

"I'm sorry."

"Aidan? Look at me. Please."

Aidan slowly looked up. His cheeks glistened with the tears that were silently falling from his eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

"You're not a match?"

"I failed the test. I'm sorry."

Aidan dropped his head to the bed, his forehead rested on Carla's thigh. Carla reached out and gently stroked Aidan's head.

"It's okay. It's gonna be okay. It's not your fault."

"It is, it's my fault. Mine only."

"No, of course it's not. You couldn't have done more and I'm so grateful that you offered. I really am."

Aidan looked up tearfully and fixed his eyes on Carla's.

"I promise you, I'm gonna fix this. I'm gonna change their minds, okay? I'll sort it out. I promise."


	11. Chapter 11: Things fall apart

_Summary of Chapter 10: Carla has her first dialysis treatment in hospital. Raking over the coals of Johnny's absence from her childhood, Carla and Johnny argue before she kicks him out of her hospital room. With Peter, however, Carla is able to be honest about her fears for the future. Meanwhile, Aidan is devastated when he isn't approved as a kidney donor due to concerns over his mental health. He breaks the news to Carla and vows he'll get the consultant to change their mind._

**Chapter 11: Things fall apart**

Peter opened the front door to the Victoria Court flat and helped Carla inside.

Leaning on Peter's arm, a weak and exhausted Carla limped to the sofa and sank down into its soft depths. Peter gently lifted Carla's legs off the floor and onto the sofa, arranged some cushions behind her back, and covered her body with a soft throw blanket. Carla smiled softly up at him.

"Thank you."

"You want a brew?"

"Please."

Peter put the kettle on and watched over Carla as she relaxed and closed her eyes. But her moment of respite was short-lived. The room was soon invaded by three lively beings: Jamie came running into the room, followed by Michelle, and then Snowy bounded in and immediately jumped up onto the sofa. After a moment of kneading the blanket covering Carla, Snowy curled up in her lap, purring contentedly, while Carla gently scratched the cat behind his ears.

Jamie was ecstatic to see Carla; she also climbed onto the sofa and exuberantly hugged and kissed her mum.

"Jamie, be gentle, okay?" Peter warned his daughter. "Come and help me make the tea."

Jamie ran to the kitchen to help her dad, leaving the two best friends alone.

"Hey babe, how you feeling?"

Michelle leaned over the sofa and kissed Carla fondly on the forehead.

"Exhausted. But with clean blood, so… overall I'm doing alright."

"I guess you'll be wanting some peace and quiet then?"

Michelle spoke loud enough for Peter to hear; she glanced over at him pointedly and saw him look back at her; she hoped he'd take the hint and leave.

"Chelle," Carla stroked Michelle's arm gently. "He's okay."

"Darlin', you need to rest," Michelle spoke in low tones now so that only Carla could hear. "You can't do that with him around."

"I want him here."

"Car."

"Chelle."

"Just be careful, okay?"

Carla laughed.

"Don't be so dramatic, Chelle."

"I know you. And I know the power that man has over you."

"Not anymore. There's absolutely nothing to worry about. Anyway, don't you have a bistro to run?"

Michelle looked at Carla for a moment; she was unconvinced. But she knew that nothing she said would make a blind bit of difference. Carla would do whatever Carla wanted to do.

"Call me if you need me."

"I will. Now get out of here."

Michelle kissed Carla again.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

Carla dozed lightly on the sofa. Peter sat in a nearby armchair, reading the paper. He turned the page carefully, but the sound of the paper rustling was enough to stir Carla. She opened her eyes; they flickered open and shut for a few moments before Carla managed to keep them open.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Where's Jamie?"

"Playing in her room."

"Oh, right."

Carla coughed as she cleared her throat; her nap had left her with a croaky voice.

Peter jumped up from the armchair and, picking up a glass of water from the coffee table, knelt by the sofa where Carla lay and held the glass to her lips as she took a sip.

"Thanks."

Peter put the glass down, but he didn't move away from the sofa; he remained steadfast by Carla's side.

"Whatever you need, Car, you know I'm gonna be here, right?"

Carla looked into Peter's eyes and nodded; it was if their eyes were fused into each other's gaze. They couldn't look away, even if they wanted to. Right now, neither of them wanted to.

As if drawn by a magnetic force, Peter moved his face towards Carla's. He nuzzled her cheek gently before moving his lips to meet hers. For a moment, his lips grazed hers; it was a soft but intoxicating kiss. He parted his lips, hungry for more, but Carla pulled away from him.

"No, no, no, no. That wasn't a good idea."

"Wasn't it?"

"No, Peter."

Peter looked her in the eye, searching for something, a sign, an invitation to kiss her again. He didn't find it.

"I'll go check on Jamie."

Peter walked away.

"You do that," Carla was talking to herself now.

She reached up and touched her lips; the spot where Peter's had made contact only moments ago felt like it was on fire.

A knock at the door.

Carla tried to get up, but she was still very weak. She thought about calling out for Peter, but the memory of what had almost just happened stopped her. Instead she struggled to her feet and stumbled to the front door.

Carla opened the door and stood frozen in shock at the identity of her visitor.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was curious to find out why my girlfriend had packed up and moved to the other side of the country without telling me."

"Girlfriend?"

Unbeknown to Carla, Peter had re-entered the room. He immediately recognised the man stood in the doorway; the man he had seen kissing Carla in those holiday snaps.

Jamie, coming into the room close behind Peter, also recognised him.

"Sam!"

Jamie ran up to Sam, obviously excited to see him again.

"Hi, princess!"

Sam bent down and swept Jamie up into a hug. Jamie giggled as Sam spun her around, safe in his strong arms.

"I've missed you, gorgeous girl."

Peter looked on jealously at this man – this man who was calling Carla his girlfriend – this man who was embracing his daughter like he was her… This man wasn't her father. He was. Peter. This man had no right!

"So?" Sam turned back to Carla, waiting for an explanation.

"Not now," Carla begged Sam, glancing to where Peter was stood, a mixture of shock and anger rendering him temporarily speechless.

As if seeing Peter for the first time, Sam turned to him and held out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Sam. And you are…?"

Peter forced himself to take Sam's hand politely; inwardly he was fighting an almost overwhelming desire to smash this man's face in.

"Peter."

"Peter Barlow? You're Jamie's dad, right?"

"Yeah. I am." Peter was emphatic, making a point.

"Great to meet you."

"I should go," Peter decided to ignore Sam and spoke instead to Carla. "You've obviously got some catching up to do."

"Okay, we'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"I dunno, I might be busy."

Peter spoke coldly and didn't meet Carla's eyes, although he could instinctively tell she was desperately trying to make eye contact with him.

"Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye, daddy."

But Jamie was too engrossed with the new arrival to pay much attention to her dad.

Peter sidled out of the flat, suddenly deflated, trying to convince himself that the ache in his chest was no more than indigestion.

Carla stood for a moment, torn, her gaze flickering from where her daughter was holding court with her boyfriend – yes, he was in fact her boyfriend – and the door through which her ex-husband had just left without a word, without a look.

After a moment's hesitation, Carla rushed out of the flat in pursuit of Peter. She caught sight of him on the stairs, hurrying away from her home as fast as he could.

"Peter."

But Peter didn't waver in his step.

"Peter! Wait!"

Carla ran after him. She pushed herself, too much for someone in her condition. When she caught up with him, she grabbed a hold of his arm and didn't let go. For a while she couldn't speak; she took a series of deep, rattled breaths; she leaned on him, all her weight was on him as she struggled to breathe.

Peter melted momentarily at the sight of her. He reached out and stroked her cheek gently.

"You should be resting."

"I just wanted to…"

"What?"

"I didn't know he was coming."

"It's nothing to do with me."

"Peter, come on."

"Not one word, Carla. Not once did you mention you had a boyfriend. You let me think. I mean, we almost… You know what we almost did."

"Are you seriously getting pissed at me? Have you forgotten about _your_ girlfriend? You do remember her, don't you? Toyah?"

"She's got nothing –"

"You've got a baby on the way, Peter."

"I know, but –"

"Do you think I've forgotten what you got up to while we were expecting a baby?"

"No, I –"

"You really think I'd do that to another woman?"

"Hey, hang on a minute. You can't deny that we had a moment before."

"I'm not denying it. Yeah, we had a moment. Until I pulled away. Because it was wrong, Peter. What would you have done if I hadn't?"

Peter couldn't, or wouldn't, answer.

"You haven't changed one bit."

Carla turned and walked away from Peter.

"Carla!"

"Go back to your family, Peter."

* * *

Carla leaned against the frame of her front door and watched Sam and Jamie playing with her toys. Sam was sat on the ground, fully invested in Jamie's imagination.

Carla couldn't help but think back to all the good times she'd had with Sam. Not just her and Sam, but Jamie as well. Sam had loved her daughter right from the beginning of their relationship; more than Carla could have ever hoped for with a partner that wasn't her daughter's biological father.

Sam glanced up at Carla and smiled. Carla smiled back.

She closed the front door, shutting out the rest of the world, and walked towards _her_ family. She sat down on the floor with Sam and Jamie and joined in with the play, her heart full of an uncomplicated joy for the first time in a very long time.

She pushed the thought of Peter to the back of her mind; she knew that dwelling on what might have been would only lead to more pain for everyone. This was how things had to be. She knew it. And her heart? Well, her heart would learn to behave. In time.


	12. Chapter 12: Moving on

_Thank you so much to everyone who has left a review. Knowing people are enjoying the story is great motivation to keep going. I'm so excited about what's coming up, I hope you guys are too!_

**Chapter 12: Moving on**

Carla emerged from the bedroom, bleary eyed, clad in her dressing gown despite the late hour. It was almost 10am. She had never been a morning person, but this was unusual even for her.

"Morning sleepy head."

"Morning mummy."

Sam and Jamie were sat at the dining table; Sam sipped a coffee while Jamie was engrossed in her colouring in book.

Carla kissed Jamie on the back of the head as her daughter bent over her art.

"Morning, baby."

Carla sat down at the table in-between Jamie and Sam.

"How'd you sleep?" Carla wasn't sure what level of affection Sam was expecting.

"Not as well as I'd hoped."

"I'm sorry. I was a bit tired to get into it last night."

"No need to apologise. You want coffee?"

"Oh, yes please. In an intravenous drip if you've got one handy."

Sam stood and walked to the kitchen; not before he'd planted a soft kiss on Carla's forehead.

Carla, exhausted despite her long sleep, rested her head on her arms while Sam made her coffee. Soon enough she was cradling a steaming mug filled with the elixir of life in her hands.

Sam sat back down and waited until Carla was halfway through her coffee before speaking again.

"You ready to talk then?"

Carla turned to Jamie.

"Sweetheart, have you packed your bag for your dad's house?"

"No."

"Can you do that now please."

Jamie looked up at her mum, ready to argue the point, but decided against it.

"Okay."

Jamie slid down from her chair and ran to her bedroom.

Carla turned to Sam; this was it, truth time.

"I don't know where to start."

"At the beginning's as good a place as any."

"I should've told you I was moving. But, you know, we'd had that big argument before you left for your business trip."

"Every couple argues, Carla."

"I know, I know."

"I still don't know what that argument was about."

Carla sighed nervously.

"Carla? You know you can tell me anything, right? I just want you to talk to me."

"You know what I'm like; master of denial, suppressed emotions. I guess picking a fight with you was easier than trying to deal with what was happening."

Sam waited for Carla to continue; he knew better than to push her.

"The thing is, I, umm, I got some bad news… from the, umm, from the doctor. I'm, ah, I'm kinda dying."

And so Carla told Sam everything; from receiving her diagnosis, to being in denial and pushing him away, to her decision to up sticks and move without telling him.

"That's why I moved back here. To give Jamie a father and a home after I'm gone."

Sam rested his hand on Carla's and gently stroked her skin with his thumb.

"I'm so sorry, I was a coward to leave without telling you."

Sam gently pulled Carla by the hand and motioned for her to come to him. He pulled her down to sit on his knee, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly on the cheek.

"Now that I know, we can face this together, okay?"

"Sam, I can't put you through that. You know I'm a right cow when I'm tired. And I'm tired all the time now. And I don't have the energy to tip-toe around your feelings. You are so amazing. You deserve to be with someone who can give you what you need."

"Hey, stop that. Do me a favour, yeah?"

"What?"

"Let me decide what I need. And what I want. Okay?"

"What do you want?"

"I want you. I want you even when you're being a tired grumpy old cow."

Carla gave him a playful smack on the arm.

"Hey! Not so much of the old thank you very much."

Carla turned serious and looked him in the eye.

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

Sam kissed Carla on the lips.

"I'm sure."

Carla kissed Sam; a full, passionate kiss. Carla's hands raked through Sam's hair as his pulled her closer to him; they roamed over her back and down her thigh. Their tongues met as their lips parted –

"Mummy, I'm ready."

Carla and Sam reluctantly parted and laughed at Jamie's innocent face, blissfully unaware of what she had just interrupted.

"Five minutes, baby, I need to have a quick shower."

Carla turned her attention back to Sam.

"Hey, did you bring your work stuff with you?"

"Umm, yeah, I got a bunch of samples from my trip in the boot of the car."

"Great. Can you meet me and my brother in the pub a bit later?"

Carla stood and gave Sam a quick soft kiss.

"And bring your samples."

Sam held tight to Carla's hand as she started to walk away.

"Hang on a minute," he pulled her back towards him. "Does this mean you want me to stick around?"

Carla didn't respond in words; she kissed him instead. Sam wrapped his arms around Carla's waist as she leaned over him, her long hair falling over his shoulders.

"Just to clarify…"

She kissed him again.

"Mmm…?"

Their kisses became more urgent, more passionate.

"Am I still sleeping on the sofa?"

Carla's tongue darted into Sam's mouth before she pulled away, just for a moment.

"What do you think?"

Sam smiled; they kissed again.

"Mummy, that's gross."

Carla laughed and tore herself away from Sam's embrace.

"Right, shower time."

Sam grinned as he watched Carla walk away.

* * *

Toyah answered the door to Carla's knock. Carla wouldn't admit, even to herself, that she was disappointed it wasn't Peter.

"Carla," only the basic civility for the ex. Carla was grateful that Toyah's attitude didn't extend to her daughter. "Hey there, angel."

"Hi Toyah."

"You wanna come inside, sweetheart?"

Jamie looked up at her mum.

"Bye, mummy."

Carla hugged Jamie and kissed her forehead.

"You have fun with daddy."

Toyah ushered Jamie inside.

"So, you'll pick her up after tea, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Toyah started to close the door.

"Is Peter in? I was hoping to have a word."

Toyah looked at Carla; she wished she could slam the door in her face, but for Jamie's sake she had to remain on civil terms.

"I'll see if he's free."

Toyah closed the door on Carla, leaving her stood alone on the footpath; Toyah wasn't prepared to invite the woman she still considered her love rival into the house.

Finally, the door reopened.

"What do you want?"

Carla was momentarily stunned by Peter's tone.

"Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Cold. Distant."

"I'm following your advice, Carla. I'm taking care of _my_ family, so why don't you leave me to it, and I'll leave you to yours. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"Is this because I wouldn't kiss you?"

"Don't flatter yourself. That was a mistake. A big mistake. I'm sorry if you got the wrong idea."

"Then what's changed? Is it Sam?"

"No."

"I don't believe you. We were getting on great until Sam showed up."

"I thought so and all. How do you think it felt for me to have your boyfriend, a boyfriend that you'd never mentioned before I might add, turn up like that out of the blue?"

"Why should it matter? You're with Toyah?"

"Yeah, and you're with Sam."

"Yeah."

"There's nothing left to say then."

"I guess not."

* * *

Jamie and Peter sat side-by-side on the sofa in the back room of the Rovers watching cartoons. Well, Jamie watched cartoons, Peter was lost in thought.

Peter suddenly reached for the remote and turned the TV off.

"Daddy!" Jamie protested with the cutest little pout on her face.

"Jamie, how long has Sam been hanging around your mum for?"

Jamie shrugged; time was a difficult concept to pinpoint at her age.

"I dunno, a while?"

"Do you like him?"

Jamie nodded enthusiastically.

"He's funny. And he plays with me and my toys."

"That's good."

Jamie's answers weren't exactly comforting to Peter.

"He was funny this morning. His legs were all bent weird cause he didn't fit on the sofa proper."

Peter suddenly perked up.

"Oh, he slept on the sofa did he?"

"Yeah." Jamie was beginning to wonder about her dad's line of questioning.

"And how did Sam and your mum get on this morning?"

Jamie looked confused.

"Did they fight?"

Jamie shook her head.

"Mummy was happy, I could tell."

"How could you tell?"

"Because mummy and Sam kissed."

"They kissed? What kind of kiss?"

"A gross kiss."

Jamie proceeded to mime "gross" kissing with tongues to a horrified Peter who quickly turned the TV back on; the conversation had not gone the way he'd hoped.

* * *

Carla and Sam sat opposite Aidan and a strange man in one of the booths at the Rovers. They all spoke animatedly, referring every now and then to the fabric samples and sketches of lingerie designs that littered the table.

From his position behind the bar, Peter stood and watched the foursome. Carla glanced up and caught Peter staring at her.

"Another round?"

Carla stood and made her way to the bar.

"Same again."

Peter began to prepare Carla's order.

"Where's Jamie?"

"Leanne's taken her and Oliver down the Red Rec. Who's the bloke?"

Carla turned to look briefly at the group she'd just left before fixing her eyes back on Peter.

"Jeremy? He's our new lead designer. We're planning his first Underworld collection."

"That's great. Things are really happening now, aren't they? I'm really pleased for you."

"Thanks."

"What about Sam? Don't tell me he's a knicker expert as well?"

"Actually, he runs his own textile sourcing business. Travels all around the world looking for the best, the most beautiful, the most unique fabrics."

Peter fixed his gaze on Carla.

"He's definitely got an eye for beautiful things."

Carla didn't reply; she simply handed over a ten-pound note. Peter reached out for the note with one hand, while placing the other on top of Carla's hand, briefly enclosing her hand in his. Carla quickly pulled her hand free.

"Keep the change."

* * *

"I know Fashion Week's still a long way off, but we really need to get this first collection right. We want to make an impact on the market. Make them sit up and take notice. Now, me and Aidan are headed down to London next week to talk to the organisers and some potential partners, so do you think you could have some marketable sketches or, even better, some samples we could take down with us? Something that will communicate your creative vision for the collection."

"Yeah, I don't see why not." Jeremy was both excited and confident. "Especially with some of these fabrics, I think we could make something quite unique."

"That's great!"

Jeremy said his goodbyes, gathered up his sketches and left.

"How do you think that went?" Despite having years of experience in the industry, Aidan still questioned his abilities in the presence of his big sister and constantly sought her endorsement of his ideas.

"How do _you_ think it went?"

"Well, I loved Jeremy's designs. And the fabrics are amazing."

"Pretty good management team as well, don't you think?"

Aidan smiled. "Yeah. Great team."

"Which leaves the roof repairs."

A sudden bout of nausea hit Carla; she took a deep breath and leaned forward, her head in her hands. Sam gently stroked Carla's back.

"Sis?"

"You okay, babe?"

"I'll be fine in a minute."

Sam continued to stroke Carla's back while Aidan looked on, horrified at witnessing his sister's ailing health.

Soon enough, Carla raised her head; she was pale and shaken. She leaned her head against Sam's shoulder as he reached his arm around hers and held her close to him.

"I need to go."

"Aidan, we haven't finished talking business yet."

"I'm sorry, I have to… I'll call you later."

Carla looked at Aidan in confusion as her brother, flustered and clearly upset about something, fled the pub. She looked up at Sam who simply shrugged; Aidan's behaviour was as much a mystery to him as it was to her.

But Carla didn't have the energy to worry about Aidan right now; she still felt weak and again rested against Sam.

"You wanna go home, babe?"

"In a minute. Let's just sit here for a bit, yeah?"

"Okay."

Sam leaned down and kissed Carla gently on the lips. Carla closed her eyes; she had almost fallen asleep when a commotion from the bar drew her attention.

Peter and Toyah stood facing each other. With one hand, Peter gripped Toyah's; with the other he held out a diamond ring. All eyes were on the couple.

"Oh my god, yes! Yes! Of course I'll marry you."

The pub patrons all clapped and cheered as Peter and Toyah kissed; he lifted her up and spun her around before kissing her again. Placing her back down on the ground, Peter slipped the ring onto Toyah's ring finger. The happy couple were inundated with congratulatory well-wishes.

In the booth, Carla and Sam also applauded the proposal. Carla glanced up at Sam and saw him looking down at her with a knowing look.

"Don't you go getting any ideas, mister."

"What? Are you saying you don't ever wanna get married again?"

"God, no."

Carla backpedalled when she saw the look of disappointment on Sam's face.

"Oh, come on, Sam. I've been married four times and each time it's ended in disaster."

"But you've never been married to me before."

"Baby, we don't need a piece of paper. Trust me, that piece of paper, the vows, all those promises, they mean nothing. We don't need to be married to be committed to each other. Okay?"

"So, you're happy to live in sin for the rest of our lives?"

"Oh, yes. That sounds perfect."

Carla kissed him.

"With me?"

Carla kissed him again; deeper, more passionately this time.

"As long as you promise me one thing."

"What one thing?"

"Promise me that you will never ever propose to me."

Sam kissed her.

"I promise."

They kissed again. Then Carla snuggled into Sam's shoulder once again and snuck a glance up at the bar where Peter and Toyah were also locked in an embrace. But far from being completely captivated by his new fiancée, Peter was looking across at Carla and Sam. Carla couldn't read Peter's expression; she decided it was safest to not even try. She closed her eyes and hugged Sam that little bit tighter.

* * *

Outside the Rovers, Aidan was slumped against the wall, his eyes closed, his face skyward as if deep in prayer. He didn't want to do it, he didn't think he needed to. But he knew he had to; it was the only way he could think of to help Carla.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and, after a quick internet search, dialled a number.

"Hello, you've reached the Mind Info Line, this is Alan, how can I help you?"

It was as if Aidan's voice box had become suddenly and intractably frozen.

"It's okay, whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here."

The line remained silent for a long time before Aidan felt able talk. It was only the thought of his sister dying a slow and painful death if he didn't talk that gave him the courage to speak.

"Hello?"


	13. Chapter 13: London calling

_Trigger warning: talking about suicide and mental health _

**Chapter 13: London calling**

"Aidan! We're gonna be late!"

Carla stood impatiently in the lounge of her and Aidan's plush two-bedroom suite in a 5-star London hotel.

"Give me strength."

Carla stormed into Aidan's room where he was preening in front of the mirror, making sure his suit was sitting just so, his tie not too short, not too long."

Carla came up behind Aidan, wrapped her arm playfully around his neck and dislodged his tie.

"Oi! That took me ages to get right!"

"Come here."

Carla turned Aidan round so he was facing her; she straightened his tie, patted his jacket down and gave his ear a friendly tweak.

"You'll do."

"Thanks very much."

"I forgot how vain you are."

"Me? Are you serious? Coming from miss fashion plate herself."

"You are so much worse than me."

"Am not."

"Are so."

"You are so annoying."

"Must run in the family, ey? Now are you sure you're ready? Can I interest you a mani-pedi? A facial maybe?"

"You think you're funny?"

"Yes."

"Come on, let's go," Aidan strode out into the lounge. "You got the samples?"

"Yes."

"And the designs?"

"Yes."

"The reviews? The budget?"

"Yes. Yes."

"Okay, let's do this."

Aidan placed his hand on the door handle when Carla suddenly grabbed his arm.

"Aidan, hold on a minute."

"You just said –"

"I know what I just said, just, stop for a minute, okay?"

Carla took Aidan's hands in hers; he merely wrinkled his brow in confusion.

"I just wanted to say… Thank you."

"What for?"

"I know I wasn't… overly keen at first, but, working with you to revive, no, reinvent Underworld. I'm having a blast. I really am. And there's no one else I'd rather be doing it with."

Aidan looked at his big sister seriously now.

"Me too."

The siblings spontaneously hugged, a little tear in each of their eyes, until Carla pushed him away playfully.

"Oh, look at me, I'm getting all soppy in me old age."

With that, Carla opened the door and hurried through. Aidan watched her go with a smile on his face.

* * *

Sam entered the Rovers during a quiet afternoon's trade and made a beeline for the bar where Peter was serving.

"Peter."

"How do. What can I get ya?"

"Pint of bitter, thanks."

Soon enough Peter had placed the pint in front of Sam and settled in for a good chat.

"So, they get off alright this morning? Carla and Aidan?"

"Yeah, they were so excited, it was kinda cute."

"Only one night though?"

"Carla can't stray too far from home these days. She's got dialysis day after tomorrow."

"Right. How's she coping with that?"

"You know Carla, never one to complain, even when she has every right to. I wish she wasn't pushing herself like this, but…"

"Carla the workaholic."

"Yep."

"And my daughter would be…?"

"I just dropped her next door, she's spending the afternoon with your dad."

"Oh, that's great, he'll be made up. Although I don't know who I feel more sorry for; Jamie when dad turns on teacher mode, or dad when Jamie turns stubborn and bossy."

"She's the spit of her mum, that girl."

"Isn't she just."

Both men were silent for a moment; both thinking of the same person; neither thinking of the daughter.

"So…" Peter wasn't sure how to talk to this man; Carla's man.

"Relax, Peter."

"I don't know why I'm… I guess Carla's told you what an despicable human being I was. How much I messed up, how much I hurt her?"

"Mate, it's none of my business. I'm not here to judge ya."

"Thanks. But it was all my fault."

"Yeah, I know, Carla told me."

They both laughed.

"Listen, Peter, we all mess up, every single one of us. Even those of us who like to pretend we don't. But it's never too late to try and make things right. While there's life there's hope. Isn't that what they say?"

"You really think so? No matter how bad things have got in the past?"

"I do."

Peter lapsed again into silent thoughtfulness. There was a glimmer of hope, almost extinguished, deep within him that just wouldn't die. He looked across at Sam and, for the first time, doubted himself. This man, he would never hurt Carla the way he had. Shouldn't he give Carla the chance to be happy, even if it was with someone else? Besides, he was beginning to really like Sam, that they might actually become friends. Maybe it was time to let Carla go. For good.

* * *

Aidan and Carla remained calm and composed until they got through the door of their hotel suite. Then they lost control; they jumped around with the overwhelming excitement of their successful meetings.

Carla was the first to return to reality; her condition demanded it. She bent over, hands resting on her knees, taking deep ragged breaths as she struggled with the overexertion.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm amazing. I am so happy right now."

"I know! It's incredible."

"_We_ are showing at London Fashion Week 2019! Can you believe it?"

Aidan couldn't reply in words; he simply laughed with joy.

"I mean, it's a terrible time slot, but, it's flipping Fashion Week!"

Carla and Aidan hugged and danced and laughed and cried they were so happy.

But Carla soon took charge of the situation. She pulled away from Aidan and patted him on the chest.

"Okay, go and get changed, get your party gear on, we are celebrating."

* * *

"Right," Carla walked out of her room, freshly showered, styled and dressed in a slinky black jumpsuit, black suede stiletto ankle boots, her hair styled in soft waves swept forward over her right shoulder and hanging down her chest. "Sorry I took so long, I fancied a shower."

She paused in the lounge; the suite was deathly silent.

"Aidan?"

Carla walked to Aidan's room, but he wasn't there. She checked the bathroom, the wardrobe – goodness knows why – and the balcony. But it was as if Aidan had disappeared into thin air.

Carla pulled out her phone and called Aidan, but only managed to reach his voicemail.

"Aidan! Where the hell are you? Is this meant to be some sort of joke? Because it's not funny. Okay? Call me."

Carla looked around the empty suite, unsure of what to do.

"Screw him!"

With that, Carla made her way to the hotel's rooftop bar. Tempted by the array of spirits on display behind the bar, Carla eventually decided to be responsible. I mean, she did have kidney failure.

"Lime and soda thanks."

Drink in hand, Carla wandered to a quiet area of the bar and placed another call to Aidan's mobile.

No answer. But… what was that? Carla listened carefully. It sounded like her phone was echoing; like there were multiple phones ringing. She suddenly realised that what she could hear was Aidan's phone. But, where was he?

Carla scanned her immediate surroundings until she discovered the direction of the ringing. She looked around furtively and, when no one was looking, stepped over a metal barrier, walked down a short open-air corridor between what looked like the bar/kitchen area and the plant room, and onto a flat roof that opened out onto sky, all 42 floors of it, a mere parapet wall the only barrier to a terrifying drop.

Carla's heart skipped a beat as she saw Aidan stood on the parapet wall gazing out onto greater London; frozen; silent.

"I thought I was the one in this family with a death wish."

* * *

"Ey up," Eva sauntered into the bar from the Rovers back room. "Who's the new lad? I haven't seen you in here before."

Eva looked Sam up and down; she definitely liked what she saw. Well over 6-foot, smooth chocolate-brown skin, closely-cropped dark hair, the hint of muscles flexing beneath his well-tailored shirt, just tight enough to show off what was underneath. But, best of all, was the easy smile, the warm dark brown eyes that Eva, like many women before her, could easily get lost in.

Sam smiled awkwardly, a little embarrassed. Peter merely laughed.

Sam held out his hand to Eva, which she happily took in hers.

"I'm Sam."

"E-va," Eva managed to turn these two simple syllables into a complete chat up line.

"Sam's Carla's new fella," Peter thought he better nip things in the bud quick smart.

"Oh, lucky Carla. Where is she anyway? She's usually the one propping up the bar, isn't she?"

"Her and Aidan are down in London on Underworld business," Peter tried to be tactful.

"Aidan? Oh, right."

But Sam, unaware of Eva's history with Aidan, began to talk excitedly about the plans for Underworld.

"I'm so proud of both of them, they've been working so hard. I mean, after everything that went down with the factory and the roof –"

"Alright. No need to rub it in." With that, Eva stormed away, leaving a bewildered Sam and an amused Peter in her wake.

"What was…?" Sam turned to Peter for an explanation.

Peter shook his head.

"Long story. Basically, Eva and Aidan they, umm, they were engaged. But, umm, Aidan, he had an affair, Eva vowed revenge, wedding-day disaster, need I say more?"

"I get the picture."

Sam thought for a moment, unsure if he should ask Peter the question he'd been dying to ask. But he had to know.

"It makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"What's that?"

"If you love someone, why would you cheat on them?"

"Was that meant for me?"

"I dunno. Maybe it was. Maybe, yeah, maybe I wanna know why you would ever cheat on someone like Carla?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Okay. I was weak. My ego was bruised. She, umm, she flattered me, made me feel better about myself. That was pretty much the extent of it."

Peter and Sam stared at each other. Peter was the first to break the silence.

"I suppose you would never be that foolish? You'd be a saint?"

Sam laughed.

"You don't have to be a saint to be loyal. Anyway, it all worked out in the end, didn't it? You're happy with Toyah, I've got Carla."

"Yeah, it all worked out."

* * *

Aidan stood, balanced precariously on the parapet wall, staring out onto the city as if in a trance.

"Aidan? Come away from the edge, yeah?"

Carla slowly approached Aidan; she gently placed a hand on his arm. He turned to look at her; he was glassy-eyed, disorientated. Seeing him in this state made Carla grip onto his arm even tighter.

"Please, Aidan, move away from the edge."

Without a word, Aidan sat down on the parapet wall, his feet dangling over the edge of the building. Carla did the only thing she could think of; she sat down next to him, mirroring his pose.

Neither sibling spoke; Carla simply took Aidan's hand in his. They sat together in silence for a long time; enough time for the sun to set and the dark night to descend on them like a suffocating blanket.

"I wasn't…" Aidan wanted to explain, he just didn't know how.

"What, darlin'?"

"You thought I was gonna jump?"

"You did have me worried there for a bit."

"Please don't worry about me. I've got something to do now; something to live for."

"Aidan, please stop talking in riddles. Tell me what's wrong. Please."

"You remember when I told you I wasn't suitable to be a donor. You know, with your kidney?"

"Yeah, of course. I hope you're not beating yourself up over that, it wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?"

"No," Carla was adamant.

"The thing is…" But Aidan couldn't go on.

"Aidan, you can tell me anything, okay? I won't judge."

"I failed the psych assessment. Apparently they were 'concerned' about my mental health. About my ability to make a rational decision."

Carla squeezed Aidan's hand in encouragement.

"I was so angry at first. But then, I thought, what if they're right?"

"And were they? Right?"

Aidan dropped his head. With pain? Shame? Probably both.

"I've been seeing a psychiatrist. Twice a week."

"That's good. That's really good. Is it helping?"

"I think so. I hope so. It has to be working. It has to. I need to change their mind, I need them to let me be a donor. That's all I want."

"Aidan, no. Don't do this for me. Do it for yourself. I don't want anything from you if it comes at your expense."

"Even if it comes at yours? Your life even?"

"Yes. You're more important to me than a damn kidney. Your happiness is the most important thing… I'm proud of you, you know that? For talking to me like this."

Aidan laughed; a bitter, weary laugh.

"No, sis, I'm weak."

"Hey, it takes guts and strength to ask for help. Now, are we done here? Because I really don't cope well with heights."

Aidan nodded; he was ready to move away from the edge now, for today at least.

Carla scrambled to her feet and held out a hand to Aidan. He gripped onto her as he rose, most ungracefully, from his seat on the edge of the parapet wall.

She led him a few metres away from the edge before she dared speak again. She stopped and wrapped him up tight in a hug; she couldn't help the tears as they ran freely down her cheeks.

"Promise me one thing, okay?"

"Depends."

"If you ever," Carla punched Aidan playfully. "Ever scare me like that again, I'm gonna throw you off the roof myself."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just promise me… If you ever need to talk, about anything, you call me okay? Anytime. You have to promise me, Aidan."

"I promise."


	14. Chapter 14: Double date

**Chapter 14: Double date**

"You did what?"

Carla stared at Sam incredulously as he stood in front of the open pantry, taking stock of their supplies.

"I invited them for dinner. Tonight."

"Peter and Toyah?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

Carla was momentarily speechless before latching onto the only protest she could think of.

"And we have to eat vegan food?"

"It's one night, babe, I'm sure it won't kill you."

"I wouldn't bank on it."

Sam closed the pantry door and turned to face Carla.

"Look, you don't have to do anything. I'll do all the cooking."

He gave her a peck on the lips.

"So why don't you relax, put your feet up. I'm gonna head down the market and stock up on plenty of veggies."

As soon as the front door of the flat had clicked shut behind Sam, Carla leapt into action; she picked up her phone and hurried to place a call.

"Come on, come on," Carla was impatient.

"Hey, Carla."

"You can't come tonight."

"What?"

"You and Toyah. Dinner tonight. Make up an excuse, any excuse, just…"

"I've already told Sam we'd come. It's too late to cancel. And a bit awkward, don't you think?"

"I think it'd be more awkward if you came."

"Really? I don't get what the problem is. Surely you want all the important people in Jamie's life to get along? Or at least try to?"

"Of course I do, it's just –"

"Do you have a problem with Toyah?"

"Excuse me?"

"Because you're fine with me coming round whenever I want, but now that Toyah's included you're having none of it. Why's that?"

Carla was lost for words; Peter snatched the advantage.

"And you know what, me and Sam, we've had a chance to get to know each other."

"Have you? When?"

"When you were in London."

"Oh."

"I really like the guy. He's a keeper. So…"

"What?"

"If you and Toyah could get along as well… Happy days."

"Yeah, happy days."

Peter grinned at the sarcasm dripping from Carla's voice.

"We'll see you tonight then?"

"Can't wait."

* * *

Carla sat on an armchair in her living room across from Toyah, silently cursing both Sam and Peter for leaving the two women alone. Sam was busy preparing their dinner in the kitchen while Peter, at Jamie's request, was reading his daughter a bedtime story in her room.

Carla smiled at Toyah; but she couldn't quite hide the disdain she felt for this woman.

"So…" Carla struggled to find a suitable topic of conversation. "You must be excited about the new arrival. When's it due?"

"Six weeks. Yeah, we're both, umm, we're both over the moon." Toyah sounded anything but over the moon at the thought of becoming a parent.

"Six weeks? Wow. Then it'll be sleepless nights, constant crying, and feeding, and you-know-what-elsing."

"I'm not afraid of getting my hands dirty, Carla. Just because I'm not carrying the baby myself doesn't make me any less her mum."

"Steady on, I wasn't suggesting…" Carla was heartfelt now. "Toyah, however this baby comes into the world, it doesn't matter. Because when you're holding _your_ baby in your arms, all the exhaustion and the dirty nappies and the, you know, nipple chaffing, it all just falls away."

"Peter told me you never used to want kids."

"I didn't. Not until Jamie."

"Yeah, well, I've always wanted a baby. And now it's happening I'm not going to let anyone spoil it for me."

Carla stared at Toyah in confusion for a moment until her eyes were suddenly drawn to Peter as he emerged from Jamie's bedroom. Toyah also turned to look. Peter glanced over at Carla and Toyah and flashed them an uncertain smile before making a beeline for the kitchen where he was soon talking animatedly with Sam.

"Listen, Carla, whether we like it or not, our lives our intertwined because of Jamie. So we have to at least pretend to get along. I know you don't like me and to be frank I don't much like you. So in future how about we try to avoid these kinds of situations. If those two want to have some kind of bromance, they can do it in their own time."

"Wow, you sure don't take any prisoners, do you?"

"I'm protecting my family is all. I know what kind of woman you are, Carla."

"What kind of –?"

"Leanne told me everything, about how you stole Peter from her. Told me not to trust you." Toyah's leant forward; her voice dropped low. "If you think you're going to get your claws into Peter again –"

"I'm not! I don't –"

"Let's just keep it that way, okay? Me and Peter, we've got a good thing going, and we've got a baby on the way. If you dare try to come between us, I swear…"

"Toyah!" Carla had reached her limit. "I have no interest in Peter, not like that. Why would I when I've got a man like Sam? You know, a man who's never cheated on me, never lied to me, never humiliated me. I washed my hands of Peter a long time ago. He's your problem now."

"Yeah, he is."

Carla leaned back into the armchair and smiled to herself.

"You know, I never saw the resemblance before."

"To what?"

"You and Leanne. I can finally see how similar you two are."

A hint of a smile from Toyah.

"That wasn't a compliment, darlin'."

The smile quickly faded from Toyah's face, replaced by a look that Carla could only surmise to be some sort of challenge.

"Dinner's ready."

The two women rose from their seats, grateful that their tête-à-tête had come to an end. As Toyah turned to face the two men, she plastered a wide smile on her face.

"It all smells so amazing, Sam. Thank you so much for inviting us."

"Our pleasure. Please, sit, anywhere you like."

Toyah gave Peter an affectionate pat on the shoulder as she sat down at the dining table.

Carla followed Toyah to the table in a bewildered silence.

"You okay?" Sam whispered in Carla's ear as he held her chair out for her.

"I'm fine. Just hungry I think."

Sam gave Carla a soft kiss on the cheek and was rewarded with a warm smile.

Carla looked across the table at her unexpected dinner guests and had the distinct sense that both were wearing masks; smiling masks that were hiding their true feelings. Carla didn't need to wonder what was going on underneath Toyah's mask; jealousy and insecurity had gripped her heart and it couldn't help but seep out and infect all areas of her life.

But when Carla looked at Peter, she didn't know what he was hiding behind his mask of pleasantness and civility. She looked him in the eyes, those dreamboat eyes that had really only seen her properly for the first time that day she had walked into his AA meeting. Since then, for a couple of years at least, every time Carla had looked into those eyes, she'd been drawn further towards him, had fallen more in love with him. But now when she looked into his eyes she was scared of what she would see, what that would mean, and whether she was in fact merely seeing the reflection of her own eyes.

Carla quickly turned away from Peter's gaze and smiled at Sam. She had no doubt that what she saw when she looked into Sam's eyes was pure love; she just hoped that he saw the same thing when he looked back at her.

* * *

Carla emerged from the ensuite bathroom wearing a navy singlet top and matching navy with white polka dot pyjama shorts and climbed into bed next to Sam, who put the book he was reading down on the bedside table.

"I thought that went quite well."

"Yeah," Carla was subdued.

"Why do I get the feeling you didn't enjoy yourself quite as much as me."

"Of course I did. And thank you, the food was divine. It really was."

Carla kissed Sam softly on the lips before cuddling up to him, her arm wrapped around his torso, her head resting on his shoulder

"Have I done something to upset you?"

"No."

"Are you still angry that I invited them in the first place?"

"No," but Carla couldn't help herself."If you must know, I didn't appreciate being left alone with Toyah for most of the night."

"Why do you have a problem socialising with her?"

"It's weird, innit, he's my ex-husband for god's sake!"

"I was talking about Toyah, not Peter."

"We don't have anything in common."

"I asked you to play nice for one night, but you couldn't even manage that."

"Why should I have to play nice?"

"They're getting married, she's going to be Jamie's step-mum."

"Doesn't mean I have to like her."

"So you admit it? You don't like Toyah?"

"Yes. I admit it. I don't like Toyah."

Sam reached down and gently turned Carla's face towards his.

"Carla, do you still have feelings for Peter?"

"What? Where did that come from? Of course I don't. Don't be silly."

"It would explain the Toyah hate."

"Sam…"

"Carla, tell me the truth. Please."

"Okay. Toyah being Jamie's step-mum. One day she might be more than that, she might be the only mum Jamie has at all. The only mum she'll have when she hurts herself and wants it kissed better, the only mum she'll scream for in the middle of the night after a nightmare, the only mum who'll give her cuddles, teach her, guide her as she becomes a woman. All those things, all those milestones, all those everyday moments that I won't be there for, she will. And I'm sorry if me being a little bit upset about that thought offends you so much."

"Hey, hey, it doesn't… Baby, I'm sorry, I didn't even think."

Sam held Carla tight and kissed her gently.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I doubted you. Of course you wouldn't still want Peter after everything he put you through."

"It's okay. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay."

Carla was lucky Sam couldn't see her face in that moment or he would have had a multitude more questions for her. As it was, those questions were whirring around Carla's mind at a cracking pace. That constant thought "What if?". But there was no "What if?" in this story, Carla kept on reminding herself. "They're having a baby." That had to be the end of it. Carla refused to be that woman. So she shut down those thoughts and replaced them with new ones; ones that involved Jamie and Sam. She knew those other thoughts were still there, still lurking, but she reasoned that, if she kept on pushing them down, sooner or later they'd fade away.

But Carla and Peter both knew that some things would never fade, never die.


	15. Chapter 15: Shock to the heart

**Chapter 15: Shock to the heart**

Carla peered into the bathroom mirror as she raised the mascara wand to her eyes, concentrating hard to apply the black goo to her eyelashes only. But the tremor in her hand was making the task almost impossible. Taking a deep breath, Carla used her left hand to hold her right hand steady as she carefully placed the brush at the base of her lashes and slowly moved it to the ends.

Bzzzzzzzz!

"Shit!"

The sound of her security buzzer had startled Carla, causing her to smudge mascara over her eyelid. She hastily tried to repair the damage to her makeup when the buzzer sounded again.

"For god's sake."

Carla stalked out of the bathroom and to her front door, ready to take her bad mood out on whoever it was ringing her doorbell so incessantly.

"Johnny."

"Hi love, can I come in?"

"Actually, I'm running late."

But Johnny ignored Carla's protest and walked past her into the flat.

"Jamie and Sam not around?"

"No, it's just me. Sam's in Edinburgh on business."

"And my granddaughter?"

"She's with her dad. You know, last night, it was the first time Peter had her overnight. So, yeah…" Carla realised Johnny wasn't really listening to her. "He's gonna take her straight to the party."

"Right."

Johnny strolled to the dining table over which was strewn a multitude of fabric samples. He picked up a piece and ran it through his fingers. He raised an eyebrow, obviously impressed with the quality of the fabric.

"What's this then?" Johnny looked curiously up at Carla.

"Fabric made from hemp."

"Hemp?"

"Yes, hemp. It's a new range we're hoping to bring out towards the end of the year."

"Made from hemp? That's a bit hippie for you, isn't it?"

"No. It's bang on trend. It's strong, sustainable, environmentally friendly. It's a no-brainer."

Carla stared at Johnny as he picked up random pieces of fabric. What was he playing at?

"Johnny, I really don't have time for this. I need to get to Aidan's party. Talking of which, why aren't you there?"

"I thought we could go together."

"It's only around the corner."

"Yeah, well, I thought we could have a little chat beforehand. I feel like you've been really distant with me since, you know, we had words."

"And you wanna have that chat now? When we're expected at your son, my brother's birthday party in…" Carla looked at her watch. "Seventeen minutes ago."

"Please, Carla."

Carla sighed; she really didn't have the energy for another one of Johnny's pity-parties over his ineptitude as a father. She was exhausted, more than usual, after her morning dialysis session, and the nausea that often hit her in waves had seemed to take up permanent residence in the last hour or so. Unable to put up a fight, Carla instead leaned back against her kitchen countertop and crossed her arms.

"You've got five minutes. Say whatever it is you need to say."

"Right…"

"Come on, Johnny, just spit it out."

"Okay. I feel like I want us to be closer, but I don't know how. I don't know how to make you forgive me. I know I was a terrible father to you growing up –"

"Here we go. You weren't a terrible father, Johnny, you weren't anything. That's the point."

"I know, I know. But, every time I think we've put all that behind us, you bring it up again and we're back to square one."

"So, what are you saying? Are you saying it's my fault? That I should just let it go?"

"No, of course not. I just… I wish I knew what to say that could make it better for you."

"There it is."

"What?"

"What you can _say_ to make it better. I don't want apology after apology, Johnny. Words aren't gonna make this better. It's about what you _do_. The things you do every day that make me feel like you want to be my father. That you want me as a daughter. That you're interested. But you don't do them. You talk about being a better dad, but you do nothing."

"What do you want me to do?"

Carla laughed; a harsh derisive laugh.

"I can't tell you what to do. If you can't figure it out on your own, then I don't know what to say."

"I can try. I want to try."

"Then try. You don't have to get it right. I don't expect that. I just want you to do something."

"Okay. Less talk, more action. Got it."

"Good. Now that we've got that cleared up, can we please go to this damn party?"

* * *

Carla and Johnny entered the Bistro shortly thereafter and made a beeline for the long table that had been set up for Aidan's family and friends to celebrate his birthday.

"Hi, sorry we're late."

"That's okay," Michelle gave Carla a friendly kiss on the cheek and squeeze of the arm. "Birthday boy's not here yet anyway."

"And you were worried we'd be late."

"Not the point, Johnny," Carla couldn't help but get the final word in. "Hello."

Carla switched her attention to where Kate and Maria were already sat at the party table, leaving Johnny to attend to Jenny who was making short shrift of a bottle of sparkling wine.

"What time do you call this then?" Kate suddenly yelled out to the man who had just entered the Bistro.

Aidan hurried over to them, defiant to the last.

"I'm allowed to, aren't I? It is my birthday after all."

"Of course it is. Happy birthday, bro."

Kate gave Aidan a hug and kiss, followed by Maria and finally Carla.

"Do you have a minute?" Aidan whispered to Carla. "I need to talk to you."

"Sure."

"In private."

As Carla stood up to follow Aidan, Johnny pounced on his son, determined to draw him into conversation.

"Dad, I need to have a word with Carla."

"No. I'm not having that. No business talk, not today."

With that, Johnny dragged Aidan away; the latter shot an apologetic look at Carla who simply shrugged before sitting back down.

Carla didn't have long to wait until the party guest she was yearning to see arrived. Jamie, proudly carrying a rather badly wrapped present, had just entered the Bistro, closely followed by Peter. Even though Jamie had been away only one night, Carla had missed her desperately; the ache that had settled in her heart since dropping her off at Peter's the day before disappeared as soon as she laid eyes on her daughter.

"Hi baby," Carla stroked her daughter's face tenderly and gave her an affectionate kiss. "Don't you look pretty."

Jamie was pleased with her party 'look': black tutu skirt over purple and pink patterned leggings, a bright aqua t-shirt emblazoned with glitter and sequins, black Timberland boots, and wild hair, untamed by the hot pink headband that had been used, presumably by Peter, to provide some semblance of order. Carla tried to smooth down Jamie's hair, but the girl was too excited to stand still.

"Look mummy, I wrapped Uncle Aidan's present all by myself."

"Wow, you did such a good job. Why don't you go and give it to him? Go on."

Carla looked on proudly as Jamie happily skipped to her uncle and presented him with his present.

Carla turned to Peter who had sidled up next to her.

"How did you get on last night?"

"It was perfect, Carla, it really was." Peter gushed. "I loved every minute."

"Did she get to sleep okay?"

"Eventually. After I read her about five stories."

"She saw you coming," Carla laughed.

"I didn't mind. The opposite really. You know, I could've easily sat by her bed all night and watched her sleep."

"That mighta been a little bit weird, don't ya think?"

"Yeah, probably."

"I get what you mean though. Watching your child sleep is one of the most precious things in the whole world."

For a moment Carla and Peter smiled at each other, lost in shared thoughts of their daughter.

"You gonna stick around for a bit?"

"Oh, I dunno, I don't wanna intrude. It's a family thing."

"Don't be silly, you're as good as family. You're Jamie's dad. Go on, get yourself a drink."

"Okay, I'll stay for one drink."

Peter smiled at Carla before turning and walking towards the bar.

"Peter!"

Peter paused and twisted around to look at Carla, a questioning look on his face.

"Get me a lime and soda while you're there."

"Yes boss," Peter grinned back at her before turning again to the bar.

Carla looked at Peter placing his drink order at the bar. Normally she might have assumed that the fluttering she was feeling in her chest was down to the presence of her ex-husband, but this time she wasn't so sure. This time she felt decidedly strange.

The nausea that had been Carla's constant companion all day now threatened to overwhelm her. She tried to feel her forehead, to test for a temperature, but she struggled to raise her arm. Indeed, her entire body felt weak.

Suddenly, Carla was frightened. She looked up as Peter approached her, a drink in each hand. Seeing the look on Carla's face made him stop in his tracks. He stared at her; for a moment she stared back. They both knew that something was very wrong.

"Carla?"

But Carla couldn't answer. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe; the sound of wheezing was deafening in Carla's ears. That fluttering feeling was now constant as her heart palpitated and lost its steady rhythmic beating. Until abruptly it stopped altogether.

Peter watched on in horror as Carla raised her hand to her chest, her eyes glazed over and rolled back into her head as she lost consciousness. She doubled over and fell to the floor, face down.

"Carla!"

Peter lost his grip on the drinks he was holding; glass shattered and sticky liquid seeped across the floor.

All eyes were now on Carla.

"Call an ambulance!"

Peter crouched down next to Carla. Aidan rushed to help him gently move Carla into the recovery position. Peter felt for signs of life.

"I can't find a pulse."

"Is she breathing?"

"No. Help me get her on her back."

With Carla laid on her back, Peter and Aidan quickly formulated a plan.

"Do you know CPR?"

Aidan nodded.

"Yeah, Carla forced me to do the course."

"Okay. You're on chest compressions, I'll do mouth-to-mouth."

With that, Aidan sprang into action. He placed the heel of his hand on Carla's breastbone in the centre of her chest and covered it with his other hand, interlocking his fingers. Using his body weight, he pressed down on her chest, again and again.

"One, two, three, four…" Aidan counted out the chest compressions he was performing on his sister.

As soon as Aidan reached thirty compressions, Peter took a breath and, pinching Carla's nose closed, placed his lips over her mouth and blew steadily until her chest rose as it filled with air. He waited until the air was expelled before repeating.

Then it was Aidan's turn again.

"One, two, three, four…"

The two men continued performing CPR on Carla, well beyond the point where both were exhausted, until finally the paramedics arrived to take over.

In the confusion that followed, Carla was lifted into the back of the waiting ambulance with Peter climbing in behind her; there was no thought process behind Peter's actions, he simply determined to stay by Carla's side on instinct; there was nowhere else he could be.

As the ambulance doors closed, Peter managed to shout out "Jamie!"

"She's fine. She's safe."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief as the doors closed and the ambulance sped away with sirens screaming and lights flashing en route to Weatherfield General Hospital.

Peter turned to the gurney where Carla lay; where two paramedics were desperately working to keep her alive. He looked on in horror as they repeatedly shocked Carla's heart with a defibrillator. He didn't even notice his face was wet with tears or that he was holding his breath in anticipation until Carla's heart suddenly began to beat with a normal rhythm.

He let out a loud exhale as the dread of Carla being pronounced dead before his eyes faded slightly. But she was still unconscious; still in danger. It was all Peter could do to hold himself together; so he focused on Jamie, he thought about his daughter, scared and confused back at the Bistro without either of her parents there to comfort her. He had to hold it together for his daughter; and for her mother. They both needed him; he couldn't fall apart now.

* * *

Johnny, Jenny, Aidan and Kate rushed along the hospital corridors, not quite sure if they were headed in the right direction, but knowing they had to keep moving.

"Peter!" Johnny spotted Peter pacing the floor of the ICU waiting room.

"Peter! Any news?"

Peter looked up at Carla's family, the desperation in their eyes was clear to see.

"They're still working on her."

"Right."

"Have they told you anything? Anything at all?"

"No."

The newcomers lapsed into silence as they joined Peter in his anxious vigil.

"How's Jamie?" Peter silently berated himself for forgetting to enquire after his daughter.

"She's with Michelle, she's fine."

"Did she see anything?"

"No. As soon as Michelle realised what was happening, she took Jamie straight into the office."

"Good. That's something, at least."

Once again silence fell over the group.

* * *

"We've managed to stabilise her so she's out of immediate danger. Now we're working to treat the underlying cause." The ICU doctor patiently briefed Carla's family on her condition.

"Which was?"

"Hyperkalemia. Basically, Carla had dangerously high levels of potassium in her blood. It's quite common in patients with advanced kidney disease. In extreme cases like Carla's, the electrical signals that keep the heart beating regularly are affected, leading to arrhythmia, palpitations and, in Carla's case, sudden cardiac arrest."

"She's very lucky you two were there," the doctor nodded to Aidan and Peter. "And that you knew CPR. That kept her heart beating until the paramedics arrived and they were able to shock it back into a regular rhythm."

"So, what now?"

"Well, we're working to remove the excess potassium from Carla's body and also to protect her heart and muscles from any lasting damage. She'll likely stay in the ICU for the next forty-eight hours at least and then she'll be transferred to the Renal Unit where her Renal Care Team will take over her long-term care."

Silence fell as Carla's family digested the news.

"Can we see her?"

"She's still very disorientated and groggy, so don't expect too much. And not everyone at once, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you so much for everything. Really, I don't know what I would've done…"

* * *

It was some time before Carla was able to recognise or even communicate with any of her visitors. But that didn't stop Peter from staying by Carla's bedside for the duration, his hand resting gently on top of hers.

And so it was Peter that was there when Carla opened her eyes and looked about her with conscious awareness for the first time. For what seemed an age, anxiety gripped Peter's heart as he watched and waited to see if Carla had suffered any brain damage.

"Ow!"

"Carla? What is it?"

"My chest hurts," Carla grimaced.

"Yeah, that'll be the broken ribs."

"How…?"

"CPR. Do you remember what happened?"

Carla thought hard for a moment before shaking her head.

"I remember I was at Aidan's party. He wanted to talk to me. I don't know what it was about. I don't remember anything after that."

"It's okay, you don't need to remember."

"CPR? Who did that?"

"Well, Aidan was the one who gave you those broken ribs. And I, umm…"

"You, umm… what?"

"I gave you mouth-to-mouth."

"Really? You saved my life." Suddenly, Carla's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you."

"Carla?"

Carla and Peter both looked up at the newcomer.

"Oh, hi Gretchen, sorry, Doctor Hargreaves."

"I told you, Gretchen is fine."

"Gretchen's head of my Renal Care Team," Carla explained to Peter.

"Good to meet you," Peter held out his hand to Gretchen.

"Peter's Jamie's dad."

"Oh, lovely, she's such a gorgeous kid."

"She sure is," Peter proudly agreed with Gretchen.

"Anyway," Gretchen turned serious. "I've had a chat with the ICU doctors that have been treating you and, given that your dialysis wasn't filtering the potassium from your blood properly, I'd like to keep you in so we can monitor your levels."

"How long for?"

"Until the transplant surgery."

Carla was horrified at this proposition.

"What? No. You can't be serious."

"I'm sorry, Carla, that's the way it has to be. It's too big a risk to let you go home right now."

"But that…how long's that going to take? I mean, I'm on the waiting list, but…"

"Not anymore."

Carla looked up; Aidan had appeared as if by magic.

"What are you talking about?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you at the party. That's why I was late. I was here, at the hospital. They've given me the all-clear."

"You mean…?"

"Yeah, you're getting one of my kidneys."


	16. Chapter 16: Ultimatum

**Chapter 16: Ultimatum**

"The doctors are going to make a cut about here," Carla traced a curved line across the lower right side of her abdomen.

Curious, Jamie pulled up her mum's hospital gown so she could see her skin. Carla repeated the motion on her bare skin. Jamie re-traced the planned incision path with her little fingers. Carla both thrilled and felt a chill at Jamie's touch. Explaining to her daughter the theory of what was about to happen was a lot different to the reality. She sneaked a look up at the clock; less than three hours until she was due to go under the surgeon's knife.

"Will it hurt, mummy?"

"No, baby, the doctors are going to give me some medicine. Like when you're feeling poorly, mummy gives you something to make you feel better, right?"

Jamie nodded.

"It's the same kind of thing really. So I don't want you to worry about it, okay?"

"Okay."

Carla wrapped her arms around Jamie and pulled her in for a hug. She didn't let go, she couldn't, not yet. She knew that today's surgery was fairly routine, but she wasn't taking any chances. If this was the last time she'd get to hold her daughter, she wanted to make it last.

Jamie, sensing that her mum needed this, didn't wriggle around like she normally would if one of her mum's hugs lasted too long. She wasn't scared; she had never had any reason to doubt what her mum had ever told her; she wasn't about to start now.

"Am I interrupting?"

Carla and Jamie both looked up to see Peter stood just inside the door of Carla's hospital room.

"Daddy!"

"Come in. I was just telling Jamie all about the surgery."

"Really?" Peter looked surprised as he wandered over to the bed and gave Jamie a quick kiss hello.

"Hi, baby."

Jamie nodded in agreement, eager to show her dad how much she'd learned.

"They gonna cut into mummy's tummy," Jamie pulled up Carla's hospital gown again to expose her abdomen.

"Jamie!" Carla protested at her daughter exposing her to her ex-husband, but Jamie was on a roll and ignored her mum.

"Here," Jamie again traced her fingers along Carla's stomach. "And they gonna take one of Uncle Aidan's kidneys – you know you don't need both, don't you daddy?"

Jamie turned around and peered at Peter, obviously waiting for an answer.

"Is that right, sweetheart?"

"Yep! And they gonna put it in mummy and then mummy will be better."

"You're so clever, baby."

Jamie beamed with pride before turning her attention back to her mum, tracing all sorts of patterns over her abdomen. Carla pulled her hospital gown down, smiling apologetically at Peter; nevertheless, Jamie continued to play doctor through the fabric, tracing imaginary surgical incisions over Carla's body.

Peter took the opportunity while Jamie was distracted to talk to Carla.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Carla put on a brave face.

"Carla."

"What do you want me to say, Peter?" Carla kept her voice low so that Jamie wouldn't hear. "That I'm scared? That the thought of never seeing my daughter again, that she might never see me again, terrifies me? Because I am, it does."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

Carla reached out and grabbed Peter's handing, squeezing it reassuringly.

"It's okay. I'm sorry, I'm a bit on edge."

"Hey, that's perfectly understandable, love." Peter's low tones instantly comforted Carla.

They fell into an easy silence. All the while, Peter maintained his grip on Carla's hand; she didn't try to pull away.

"Do you mind staying? Until it's time for me to… you know."

"Of course."

"And bring Jamie back as soon as I'm awake?"

"Whatever you want."

"Thank you."

She smiled hesitantly at Peter, unsure of how to word her next request.

"And if, you know, the worst happens -"

"Carla, don't."

"Please, Peter, let me say it."

Peter didn't respond, he simply waited for Carla to speak.

"Make sure she doesn't forget me."

Tears sprang into Peter's eyes.

"Promise me, Peter. Please."

Peter nodded, he didn't trust himself to speak. All he could do was squeeze Carla's hand as reassuringly as she had squeezed his mere moments ago.

* * *

Jamie held onto Peter's hand as they walked across the hospital carpark. She chatted animatedly about this and that, causing Peter to look at her with concern. He stopped and crouched down to Jamie's level, looking her in the eye.

"Jamie, is there anything you want to talk about? Anything you're worried about?"

"No," Jamie shook her head and looked at her dad in confusion.

"If you're worried about your mum…"

"I'm not."

"You're not? Why not?"

"Because mummy said she was gonna be okay."

Peter smiled at the influence Carla had over their daughter; that over four years of experience had proven to Jamie that her mum could be trusted.

"Good. That's good. I just wanted to be sure that you knew that."

"Can we go now, daddy?" Jamie was suddenly impatient; she didn't understand why daddy was so concerned, didn't he know there was nothing to worry about?

"Yes, baby, we can go."

Peter smiled and tousled Jamie's hair affectionately as he stood up and held out his hand for his daughter to take.

"Come on then, cheeky."

Jamie grinned up at her dad before slipping her hand into his.

* * *

Carla stared up at the ceiling, watching as the ceiling tiles travelled through her field of vision in a steady rhythm while hospital porters wheeled her stretcher trolley towards the surgical department.

Suddenly, she felt completely alone. Her family, friends, her beloved daughter, they all loved her, she knew that. But they couldn't go with her now; this was a journey she would need to travel alone.

For the first time in her life, Carla prayed. Prayed that this journey was a return trip; that, in a few hours' time, the porters would be wheeling her back into recovery.

* * *

Toyah stood at the entrance to the Rovers' back room, watching Peter and Jamie. They were both engrossed in colouring in the same picture; Peter looked like a big kid, he was obviously enjoying himself immensely, while Jamie periodically stopped her own artistic efforts to give her dad directions on the best methods of colouring in, directions that Peter received with good humour.

Toyah always encouraged Peter's relationship with Jamie; she loved seeing how dedicated Peter had become, how obviously he doted on his daughter. But there were some things that Toyah refused to put up with. Something had to be done.

"Alright?" Leanne had appeared at Toyah's shoulder.

"Lee, do me a favour, yeah?"

"Hmmm," Leanne narrowed her eyes, suddenly dubious. "What is it?"

"Can you take Jamie somewhere? I want a word with Peter."

"Oh aye, what's he done then?"

"Are you gonna do it or not?"

"Alright! Enough of the attitude. I'll see what I can do." Leanne plastered a broad smile on her face. "Out of my way, then."

Toyah stepped aside to allow Leanne to waltz into the room.

"Hiya, Jamie."

"Hi, Aunty Leanne."

"I was just going to take Oliver to the Kabin for some sweets. Do you want to come with us?"

Jamie turned eagerly to her father, ready to beg for this treat.

"Please, daddy, can I go?"

Peter looked up at Leanne reproachfully before smiling down at his daughter.

"Of course, baby, but not too many, okay? You can choose two, that's it."

"Thank you, daddy."

Jamie launched herself at Peter, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with glee at the delight she was about the enjoy.

After Leanne had whisked Jamie away, Toyah entered the room and sat down at the dining table opposite Peter. She reached across the table and took his hand in hers.

"You alright, Toyah?"

"Not really, no."

"Is it the baby? Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, Peter, I'm sorry, everything's fine with the baby. It's just…"

"What is it? Please, Toyah, you're freaking me out."

"It's you and Carla."

"What about me and Carla?"

"It needs to stop. I won't have it."

"I don't know what you think is going on, but there's nothing between us. Nothing except Jamie, that's it."

"Come off it, Peter, you're constantly at her flat, looking after her, pandering to her every whim. And even when you're here, you're thinking about her."

"She's the mother of my child."

"So am I!"

Silence descended across the room; a heavy, awkward silence.

"So you'll understand why it's important for me to make sure she's okay."

"She's got her own family for that, her own partner. The only contact you ever need to have with her is when you pick Jamie up and when you drop Jamie off."

"That's not fair, Toyah."

"You wanna talk to me about what's not fair? What's not fair is my partner, the father of my child, being obsessed with his ex-wife!"

"I'm not –"

"Do I look like I'm finished talking?"

Peter simply stared at her.

"We're having a baby, Peter. We're building a family of our own, we're building a future. And that future includes Jamie, of course it does, it always will. But it doesn't include Carla."

Tears were now silently streaming down Toyah's face. Peter reached out and tried to wipe away her tears, but Toyah grabbed his wrist and held his hand away from her.

"I know you've got feelings for her. Don't you dare try to deny it. You've got history, I understand that, there's always going to be something lingering. But, if you keep on feeding those feelings, encouraging them, letting them grow… Don't you see what you're risking?"

"I wouldn't let that happen."

"You would. You have. You need to make a choice, Peter. And for the sake of our baby, I pray you make the right one."

Toyah placed Peter's hand down on the table and allowed hers to linger over his for a moment before she suddenly pushed her chair back and rose to her feet.

"You need to cut her loose, Peter. It's the only way you're going to have any kind of relationship with our child."

Peter stared at Toyah, incredulous that she could be making such a demand. But, looking her in the eye, he had no doubt that she was deadly serious.

* * *

Light began to slowly filter through the darkness. She welcomed the light, but wished it would stay still, the constant movement was making her nauseous. She tried to close her eyes to block out the light, when she realised her eyes were already closed.

So she tried to open them instead. The light, white and bright now, was blinding. She blinked furiously, desperate for her eyes to acclimatise. Shapes swum in front of her eyes, blurry shapes that she couldn't make out.

"Carla?"

Carla heard the voice as if through a wall of water; she couldn't pin point where it was coming from, or indeed who it was speaking. All she could do was lay there and wait until her senses returned to a semblance of normality.

She tilted her head slightly to the right and saw two dark and blurry figures; a smaller figure and a larger figure. She blinked; slowly but surely the figures came into focus.

"Mummy?"

"Oh, darling, come here," Carla clumsily tapped the small section of mattress by her side.

Jamie didn't hesitate to climb up onto the bed and snuggle up next to her mum.

"Be careful, Jamie."

Carla looked up at Peter and smiled lazily.

"It's okay, Peter, she's okay."

Carla hugged and kissed her daughter as if their separation had lasted years rather than hours.

Watching this touching mother and daughter scene at first warmed Peter's heart, until he remembered Toyah's ultimatum. Immediately his heart, and his face, sunk.

Carla, always with a watchful eye on Peter, noticed his sudden change.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Peter's reply was almost abrupt.

"You sure?"

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Oh, come on, Peter, spit it out."

"What?"

"Whatever it is you've got to say, just tell me. I mean, how bad can it be?"

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but the words refused to leave his mouth. He looked at Carla, so small and fragile in her hospital bed, and decided it would be cruel to say anything right now.

"It's nothing. I'm just happy you're okay."

"Okay. If that's all?"

"It is."

Peter knew he'd have to tell Carla eventually, but not now, not like this. He wished that Carla had returned to the street even a month earlier than she had. How different things might have been. How different his future might have been, their future. He suddenly longed for this alternate reality; a place where Toyah and the baby didn't exist, where Sam didn't exist. A place for just the three of them: Peter, Carla and Jamie. His family.


	17. Chapter 17: Confessions

**Chapter 17: Confessions**

As Sam held the door open, Carla gingerly stepped into her flat, finally home again for the first time in weeks.

"Welcome home, mummy!"

Carla smiled weakly at her daughter who, while clearly overjoyed to see her mum, was tentative in approaching her.

"Come here, baby."

Jamie rushed over to Carla and hugged her. Carla, still too sore from surgery to bend down, stroked her daughter's hair gently.

"Look what I made, mummy," Jamie broke away from Carla to point excitedly at the hand-painted banner emblazoned with "Welcome home mummy" that was strung across the living room wall.

"Oh, sweetheart, you made that for me?"

Jamie nodded, a broad smile on her face.

"Daddy helped."

Carla shot Peter, who was standing by himself off to the side, a brief smile before focusing again on her daughter.

"Thank you, darling, it's beautiful."

"Come on, why don't you sit down."

Sam guided an already exhausted Carla to one of the sofa's where she gratefully sank into its soft depths. Jamie climbed onto the sofa and sat as close as she could next to her mum without actually sitting on her; Carla wrapped an arm around Jamie's shoulders while the girl rested her head on Carla's.

Peter awkwardly cleared his throat, obviously out of place as he continued to stand on his own in the middle of the room.

"I'll, umm, I'll leave you to it then."

"You're not gonna stay for a brew?"

"No, I need to get back. I, ah, I'm glad everything worked out."

"Sure," Carla stared at Peter, trying to understand his awkwardness.

Sam had no such qualms.

"See ya then, mate. Thanks for looking after Jamie."

"Of course. Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye, daddy."

"Peter –"

Carla tried to talk to Peter but he hastily exited the flat without so much as a glance in Carla's direction.

"Now then," Sam placed a soft kiss on Carla's forehead. "You want a brew? Something to eat?"

"Umm… You know what, I'm really tired, I'm gonna go for a lie down."

Carla rose to her feet with some effort.

"You sure?"

But Carla ignored Sam and spoke instead to Jamie.

"Thank you for the banner, baby, I love it so much. Not as much as I love you, though."

Carla kissed Jamie fondly and slowly made her way towards her bedroom.

"Hey," Sam bounded after Carla. "Are you okay?"

Carla wearily turned to face Sam.

"I've just had major surgery, Sam, I'm a little bit tired."

"I know, but you seem, I dunno, out of sorts."

"Yeah, well, having your brother give you a body part to save your life is kind of a lot to get your head around. So, can you please just leave me to it."

"I'm sorry," Sam was taken aback.

But, with tears smarting in her eyes, Carla had already turned away from him and was hobbling into their bedroom.

Alone at last in the stillness of the bedroom, Carla sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled out her phone.

She typed out a text message: How are you?

The reply didn't take long: Fine

Carla knew this was a lie; she tried to call but there was no answer.

She decided she would pay him a visit later; for now, she needed to rest. She lay down on the bed, closed her eyes, and was soon fast asleep.

* * *

"He's sleeping, love." Johnny was apologetic. "You should be too. It's way too soon for you to be out visiting."

"I really need to speak to him."

"He said he's not up to visitors," Johnny knew immediately that he'd made a mistake.

"He said? I thought he was asleep? So, which is it?"

Johnny said nothing, he didn't need to, Carla could clearly read the expression on his face.

"Right."

Carla marched, as much as a woman who had recently had major surgery could march, into Aidan's temporary bedroom in their father's flat. She stood at the door and shot an accusatory look at her brother who was, contrary to Johnny's earlier assertion, wide awake and sat up in bed.

"Carla, not now."

"If you wanted me to leave you alone, you should've come up with a better reply."

Aidan simply stared at her, confused.

"Fine. You do know what fine means don't you? Feeling insecure, numb and empty."

"I guess I was telling the truth then."

Carla walked to the bed and sat down on it, her back against the headboard, legs straight out in front of her, close next to her brother. She reached out and took his hand in hers.

"Do we have to do this now?" Aidan sounded weary.

"No. I've got nowhere to be, so I can wait all day."

Carla didn't push Aidan to talk; she just sat there holding his hand.

"Donating a kidney to you," finally Aidan was ready to talk. "It was the one thing that kept me going. It gave me a reason to go to therapy, to try and get better. Now… I don't have any reasons left."

"You saved my life, Aidan. And I will be forever grateful for that. But that doesn't mean I don't need you anymore. And Jamie, she needs her Uncle Aidan. I'm sure Kate and Johnny would say the same."

"I want my family to remember me for doing something good."

"Aidan, please."

"I've done it now, that good thing."

"You've got more to do. More good things, I know it."

"Oh, Carla, don't you see? I've messed everything else up. That's what I do, I mess things up. That's why I was so determined to do this one good thing for you. And I've done it. I'm done. I can't keep going and I can't keep messing things up."

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"The factory."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Eva was. What I did to her was unforgivable."

"You were wrong, I'm not gonna deny that. I'm not gonna judge you for it either. I'd be a hypocrite if I did. But you can't keep beating yourself up over it."

"Why not? I messed up. I hurt Eva, I hurt Maria, my family, and everyone who counted on me, all my employees at the factory. They're all out of a job because of me."

Carla was silent for a moment.

"Do you know how Liam died?"

"Of course."

"And do you know why? Why Tony… did what he did?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think that was my fault?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why do you insist on thinking that what Eva did was your fault?"

"I was cheating on her."

"That's right. You were cheating on her and that's horrible. Trust me, I know, I've been there. And she had every right to be hurt and angry and to hate you forever. But to be so cruel and spiteful, especially about the baby, she went too far."

"You know, I still think about that baby. It's ridiculous, I mean, that baby never even existed. But I was really looking forward to being a dad. I feel like a fraud, grieving for something I never even had in the first place."

"You're grieving for a dream, for hope. That's perfectly understandable. Anyway, I think you've had a lucky escape, you don't want to have a kid with that cow."

"Hey! Don't talk about her like that."

Carla turned to Aidan, an eager, inquisitive look in her eyes.

"Oh my god! You're still in love with her."

Aidan didn't reply, he simply hung his head.

"It is allowed, you know. Just because you break up with someone doesn't mean you stop loving them, or that you don't miss them every day. It doesn't mean you should get back with them either."

Aidan finally looked at Carla; a challenging look.

"Is that how you feel about Peter?"

"Don't change the subject, mister, we're talking about you and Eva."

"Well, there's no point. Me and Eva, we're history. What we had, it's all gone."

"You've still got me. If that helps?"

"It does."

"Listen, Aidan, I want you to promise me, that if you ever feel… hopeless, you call me straight away, okay? Any time."

Carla squeezed Aidan's hand and looked him in the eyes, eyes that were brimming with tears. He nodded; at that moment, he truly believed he would keep that promise to his sister.

* * *

Carla wandered into the living area of her flat late the next morning, still dressed in pyjamas and dressing gown, wiping the sleep from her eyes, to find Sam sat at the dining table with Peter.

"Morning," Carla placed a soft kiss on Sam's lips.

"Morning, sleepy head."

"What are you doing here?"

"I, umm…" Peter floundered for an answer. "I wanted to see how you were."

"I'm fine."

Peter shot Sam a look.

"Right," Sam stood up with purpose. "I'm off to the shops to pick up a few things. I'm gonna see if Jamie wants to come with me. She could do with some fresh air."

Carla and Peter sat in silence while Sam fetched Jamie from her bedroom where she was playing and helped her on with her shoes and coat before they both left the flat.

"What's going on, Peter?"

"Oh, god," Peter sighed.

"Peter, you're scaring me."

"I don't want to do this. I really don't. I wish things were different, you have to believe me."

"Peter, you're making no sense. Whatever you've got to say, just say it."

"I'm in love with you."

Carla was dumbfounded; this was not what she was expecting. Yes, she may have suspected it, but she never believed he would say it.

"It's important for me that you know that."

"Why?" Carla's voice was barely a whisper.

"Because… Oh god. Because I can't see you anymore."

"What?"

"I need to put my family first."

"Jamie's your family."

"I know. That's not what I'm saying."

"I get it. Jamie's your family, but I'm not. Is that what you're trying to say?"

"Yes," Peter felt so ashamed; he hated himself for what he was saying.

Carla was suddenly angry. Angry that Peter was, what was he doing? Breaking up with her? When they weren't even together? How dare he!

"I don't understand why you thought you had to tell me. Did you think I thought… You and me…? You arrogant bastard. I'm with Sam. I'm happy with Sam. Why you think I'd be pining over a man who betrayed me, cheated on me, who lied to me countless times, I have no idea."

"Carla, you and me both know what's been going on."

"Get out."

"Carla –"

"I said get out. Get out. Get out!"

Peter slowly rose to his feet, not taking his eyes off Carla.

"I'm sorry."

"Get. Out."

Peter turned and walked towards the door, when suddenly the door opened and Sam hurried inside.

"Sorry, I forgot my wallet. Oh, you going already?"

"Yeah, she's all yours mate."

Peter left without another word. Sam looked at Carla; it was obvious by the look on her face that something had happened between her and Peter.

"You okay? Has he upset you?"

"No."

"What did he want? He seemed keen to get you alone."

"What?"

"Before you were up. He asked me to take Jamie out so he could have a private word with you."

"Right."

"So…? What did he want?"

"Oh… Nothing really. He, umm, he was worried about when the baby arrived, he wanted to make sure that Jamie didn't feel pushed out of the… his family."

"And he needed to get you alone for that?"

"I guess so. Don't ask me why, I have no idea how that man's mind works. Where's Jamie?"

"I left her with Rita in the Kabin."

"Well, you better go get her then."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Umm… I think, umm, I'm gonna have a shower. I feel disgusting."

With that, Carla stood and walked towards the bathroom.

Numb with the shock of what had just passed between her and Peter, Carla peeled off her dressing gown and pyjamas and let them drop to the floor. She turned the shower on and, after waiting for the water to warm up, stepped into the flow of water that was streaming from the shower head.

As the warmth of the water hit her body, the numbness disappeared and was replaced by an unexplained grief. Tears sprang from her eyes and mingled with the rivulets of water coursing down her face. She couldn't stop herself; soon the tears turned into uncontrollable sobs. She sank to the tiled shower floor and huddled there, broken, as the reality of what she'd once again lost dawned on her.

* * *

Peter walked into the Rovers in a daze. Without a word to anyone, he passed behind the bar and through the door that led to the private residence.

Toyah immediately followed him, leaving Leanne to tend the bar alone.

"Well?" Toyah closed the door behind her as she entered the Rovers back room where Peter was now stood aimlessly in the middle of the room like a lost little boy.

"It's done."

"And?"

"There's no and, Toyah. Just drop it."

Toyah moved towards Peter and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him in for a hug.

"Thank you. It means a lot, you putting our family first."

"You should've trusted me."

"I know. I will. I love you."

Peter didn't reply; he couldn't, the words seemed to stick in his throat.

Toyah wondered why Peter didn't say he loved her too. She wondered just what had happened just now between Peter and Carla; wondered if she'd pushed him too hard to cut her loose.

Despite her efforts to secure her family's future, to secure Peter, Toyah couldn't help but feel as if she'd already lost him. She might have his physical body, but his mind and his heart were permanently somewhere else. She decided she could live with that; for now. She comforted herself with the thought that everything would change as soon as the baby arrived; the baby would fix everything.


	18. Chapter 18: Duvet day

_**Note: I'm not really sure if anyone's still reading these stories? Please let me know if you are and if you're enjoying it (or not) so I know whether to continue. Thanks heaps!**_

* * *

**Chapter 18: Duvet day**

Carla rolled over lazily in bed, opening her eyes the tiniest amount, enough for her to see that the morning light was just beginning to peak in through the curtains.

The muffled sounds coming from the adjoining ensuite bathroom explained to Carla why she was alone in bed. She pulled the duvet over her head and shut her eyes tight; she wasn't ready to get up and face the day just yet.

* * *

A hand pulled at the edges of the duvet; Carla held on tight and moaned her disapproval. But the hand kept pulling until daylight streamed in on Carla and a small body slipped in under the covers next to her.

"Mummy?"

"Mmmm…"

Carla wrapped her arms around Jamie and cuddled her close into her body.

"Shhhh…"

Jamie snuggled up to her mum and soon both mother and daughter were fast asleep.

* * *

Carla awoke to a soft kiss on her forehead. She slowly opened her eyes, gradually adjusting them to the morning light.

"I have to go," Sam sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Carla's hair.

"What time is it?"

"Seven. My train's at half past."

"Do you have to go to London today? Can't you come back to bed?"

"Sorry, babe, I've got meetings. I've made you coffee, so drink it before it goes cold."

Sam nodded towards the bedside table where a fresh skinny latte was waiting for Carla.

"And a babyccino for Jamie."

"My hero," Carla spotted Jamie's favourite mug filled with frothy warm milk and decorated with cocoa sprinkles on the opposite bedside table.

Carla showed her appreciation by wrapping her hands around Sam's head and pulling him in for a kiss. He responded by kissing her more intensely; his lips parted and his tongue sought entrance to her mouth, which was swiftly granted. Carla moved her tongue around his, it entered his mouth and –

"I have to go, I'm gonna miss my train."

Carla sighed.

"Go on then, get out of here."

"I'm sorry, I wish I could stay."

"Yeah, right. You better make it up to me tonight."

"I will, I promise. What are you two gonna get up to today?"

"I dunno. At this rate, we might not even get out of bed."

"Sounds like a good idea. Why don't you two have a duvet day?"

"Mmmm, that is a good idea. We could watch some movies, grind our toast crumbs into the sheets."

"Get some proper rest, get rid of these."

Sam gently touched the dark circles underneath Carla's eyes.

"Yes, doctor."

"I'll see ya tonight."

Sam kissed her again; briefly, softly.

"Love you."

"Love you."

Carla smiled as she watched Sam walk out of their bedroom. Alone again with her daughter, she wrapped her arms around her, kissed her forehead softly and gazed at what she considered to be the most beautiful face she had ever seen.

Jamie's eyelids flickered.

"Mummy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Why you staring at me?"

Carla laughed.

"Sorry, baby, but I can't help myself, you're just so beautiful."

Carla kissed Jamie before slowly pulling herself up into a seated position and reaching for her coffee.

"There's a babyccino over there for you."

Jamie eagerly sat up and reached for her drink; she felt like a proper grown up drinking it, just like her mum.

* * *

Carla and Jamie lay reclining on piles of pillows and cushions and watching the movie Rio on Carla's iPad while Snowy the cat lay curled up between them, purring contentedly.

Carla's phone buzzed on the bedside table; she reached over and picked it up: Peter was calling.

"Jamie," Carla held out the ringing phone to her daughter. "Talk to your dad. I'm gonna go fetch some snacks from the kitchen."

Jamie obediently took the phone from her mum as Carla beat a hasty retreat from the bedroom.

"Hello, daddy."

"Jamie? Hi, sweetheart. Is your mum around?"

"Yes, but she said I had to talk to you."

"Oh, right."

"It's movie day today. All day."

"That sounds like fun."

"Come watch movies with us, daddy."

"I dunno, sweetheart."

"Please, daddy."

"I don't think your mum would be happy about me coming over."

"Yeah, she would. Please, daddy, I want you to come and watch movies with me."

Peter had already been wavering, but this final plea pushed him over the edge. His daughter had sure learnt a thing or two from her mother about twisting men around her little finger.

"Okay, sweetheart, I'll be around soon."

"Thank you, daddy. I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

After Peter had hung up, he started to worry. About Carla's reaction when he turned up on her doorstep. About the lie he would have to tell Toyah to be allowed to even leave the pub.

"Who was that?" Toyah entered the room, leaving Peter to wonder if she had heard anything of his conversation with Jamie.

"Howard," Peter used the old familiar excuse of his alcohol support group.

"Oh, right. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, he just wants me to come along to a meeting. Is that okay with you?"

"What, now?"

"Umm, yeah. I know I'm rostered on, but…"

"No, it's okay. It's important. Go."

"Thanks."

Peter kissed Toyah absently on the cheek and hurried from the room.

* * *

The end credits of Rio were playing on the iPad when the doorbell rang.

"I wonder who that is?"

"That'll be daddy."

"Why would that be daddy, sweetheart?"

"Because I asked him to come and watch movies with us."

"You did what?"

"I asked daddy –"

"Yes, I know that. Why did you do that!?"

Jamie's lip began to quiver; tears welled in the corners of her eyes in reaction to Carla's harsh tone.

"Because I wanted daddy," Jamie managed to stutter before the sobs came.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

Carla pulled Jamie in for a hug; her daughter buried her face in her mum's breast, fearful of having upset her.

"You did nothing wrong, darling. I shouldn't have got cross with you. Do you forgive me?"

Jamie nodded through her sobs.

The doorbell peeled again.

"I'm gonna answer the door, okay? Why don't you give Snowy a cuddle?"

Carla hurried to answer the door while Jamie sobbed into Snowy's sleek black coat.

"Hi, come in."

Carla held the door open for Peter, who remained frozen on the doorstep.

"Are you coming in or not?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd be okay with me being here."

"Well, it's not up to me, is it? Maybe you can go comfort your daughter, I seem to have upset her."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just… I was a little harsh with her when she announced that it would be daddy ringing the doorbell."

"She didn't tell you?"

"Nope."

"I can go."

"Don't you dare, you get in there and make her smile again."

"Where is she?"

"In the bedroom. My bedroom."

"Your bedroom?"

"Don't worry, it's not a trap. I'm not luring you in to ravish you."

Peter laughed nervously before moving towards Carla's bedroom.

The sight that met him tugged so hard at his heart strings, he almost burst into tears. Jamie was lying on the bed, with Snowy as her pillow, her eyes red and wet from her fierce bout of crying.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Peter sat down on the edge of the bed; Jamie sat up and launched herself into Peter's arms which instinctively wrapped tightly around her.

"Mummy yelled at me."

"I'm sure she didn't mean to upset you. She loves you very much, you know that, don't you?"

Jamie nodded and managed to squeak out a tiny "Yes".

"So, why don't you dry your eyes and we'll watch a movie. How does that sound?"

Jamie looked up at Peter and smiled.

"Rio 2."

"Rio 2?"

"We watched Rio so now we watch Rio 2," Jamie explained.

"You're the boss. Come on, let's go out to the lounge room."

"No, daddy, we're having a duvet day."

"A what?"

"Doo-vay day. We're staying in bed all day."

"Oh."

Peter looked up to find Carla watching them.

"It's up to you."

"You wouldn't find it… weird?"

"I'd find it very weird, but I'd like to avoid any more tears if at all possible."

Carla walked to her side of the bed and climbed in next to Jamie, kissing her softly on the tip of her nose.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"That's okay mummy. I still love you."

"Good, because I love you."

They both turned to Peter, who was still stood awkwardly by the side of the bed.

Jamie pulled back the duvet and grinned up at her dad. He didn't need a further invitation; he climbed into bed next to Jamie, his heart pounding with nervous excitement.

* * *

Halfway through Rio 2, Peter glanced down at Jamie.

"Hey," he looked up at Carla.

When she turned to look at him, he nodded down to Jamie who had fallen asleep, Snowy in her arms.

"God, she's perfect," Peter gazed adoringly at his daughter.

"I think so."

Carla looked at Peter; he looked back at her.

"Well, this isn't awkward at all."

"I'm sorry," Peter smiled sheepishly at Carla. "I can go now that she's asleep."

"I thought you said you couldn't see me anymore?"

"I'm here for Jamie. I'm here because she begged me to come."

Their eyes met; they both knew that was a lie.

"Do you hate me? After… you know." Peter wasn't sure he really wanted Carla to answer. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"No, I don't hate you. I do think you're an idiot."

"Fair enough. I think I'm an idiot too."

"As long as we're agreed? You're an idiot?"

Peter laughed.

"Agreed."

They both turned their attention back to the movie, both hyper-aware of each other's close physical proximity, both glad that their sleeping daughter provided a physical barrier between them.

* * *

As the end credits of the movie rolled, Peter looked over at Carla and was surprised to see that she, like their daughter, had also fallen asleep.

Peter had never seen a more beautiful sight than the woman he loved asleep with her arms lovingly wrapped around their sleeping daughter. The picture was completed by the sleeping cat his daughter held in her arms.

Standing by the side of the bed, Peter leaned over and kissed Jamie softly on the cheek and gently stroked her hair. As he was about to pull away from his daughter, he couldn't help but reach that little bit further and plant a soft kiss on Carla's cheek.

Having said his silent goodbyes, Peter walked to the door before turning around for a final look. There was nothing he would love more than to climb back into that bed and cuddle both his daughter and his ex-wife. But, as much as he wanted it, he knew he couldn't, he knew he had no right.

As quietly as he could so as not to disturb the two sleeping beauties, Peter stole out of the room and slipped noiselessly through the front door.

Now that he had had a taste of what domestic life would be like with Carla and Jamie, he wanted it even more. But, cruelly, it was further from his reach than ever before. And there seemed no chance that it would ever again get within his grasp. He sighed as he continued to walk away from everything he'd ever wanted in this world.


	19. Chapter 19: Life as we know it

_**Trigger warning: suicide/mental health**_

* * *

**Chapter 19: Life as we know it**

"That's right, darling, support her head."

Jamie looked up at her mum, mingled fear and excitement on her face.

"Like this?"

"Perfect. You're a natural."

Carla gazed down at her daughter holding her newborn sister with mixed emotions. She was happy for Jamie and, in theory, for Peter and Toyah, but she couldn't help feel a pang of jealousy at this new family setup that she could never be a part of. Except to let go of Jamie that little bit more. Carla blinked back the tears at the thought of losing a part of her daughter and silently admonished herself for her weakness.

Peter strode over to his two daughters, pure pride emanating from him, and sat down on the other side of Jamie to Carla.

"What do you think of her?"

Peter reached out and gently caressed the baby's head.

"She's cute," Jamie beamed up at her dad. "A bit boring. She don't do much."

"You just wait, sweetheart," Peter laughed.

"Was I like this when I was little?"

Peter was stunned at the question; he wished he could answer.

"You were every bit as precious," Carla jumped in, reaching out to gently stroke Jamie's back. "And beautiful. And loved." Carla kissed her daughter's temple. "You still are."

Carla looked up at Peter; she knew that he bitterly regretted his absence from Jamie's life for so long, that he never got to hold her as a newborn, watch her grow, learn to walk and to talk, see her first smile and hear her laughter for the first time. She thought back to when Jamie was a baby, how she would gaze down at her for hours on end, how Jamie would stare back up at her, the bond between them growing with every moment, with every look. Then she thought of how Peter had none of these memories, and how hard he'd worked over the past few months to develop that bond. The look she saw in his eyes now was one of loss; the loss of something that he could never find, something that was gone forever.

Carla lowered her eyes; she didn't want to deal with Peter's guilt right now. Or her own.

"Dad, have you seen my –"

Simon burst in through the door.

"Sssshh!" Peter hissed. "She's sleeping."

"Sorry," Simon was unconcerned. "Hi Carla. Hi Jamie."

"Hey, Si," Carla was fond of her ex-stepson, despite the years that had passed since they had technically been classed as family.

"Si! Come here!" Jamie whispered excitedly to her brother.

Carla stood to make way for Simon. As Simon sat down next to his sisters, Jamie looked at him eagerly.

"Look at her fingers, Si. They're so cute."

Simon reached out and touched one of the baby's hands; acting on reflex, the baby wrapped her tiny fingers around one of Simon's much larger fingers. Jamie giggled while Simon beamed with delight.

Carla watched this family scene with the overwhelming sense that she didn't belong. She looked around in vain, desperately searching for an escape route. At that moment, the door opened and Toyah walked in.

"Oh, Carla, are you still here?"

Carla glanced at Peter and caught a fleeting look of embarrassment in his eyes.

"Actually," Carla for once in her life didn't bite back. "I'm meeting Aidan so I better get going."

"Is she alright to stay here for a while?" Carla chose to address Peter and ignore Toyah. "A bit of sisterly bonding."

"Yeah, of course. She can stay as long as she wants."

"Thanks," Carla smiled. "I'll see you later then. Bye, Jamie."

But Jamie was so engrossed with her baby sister, that she completely ignored her mum. Carla turned towards the door, anxious to escape before the tears that were welling in her eyes spilled down her cheeks.

"I'll walk you out."

Carla was surprised at Simon's gesture, but grateful all the same.

"Congratulations again, Toyah," Carla held out an olive branch to Toyah as she walked towards the door. "She's adorable."

"I know."

Carla quickly decamped from the room that had quickly filled with an unspoken tension as soon as Toyah had entered, followed by Simon, who seemed eager to speak to her.

"Sorry about her," Simon also seemed embarrassed by Toyah's behaviour. "I'd blame it on her hormones or summat, but I don't think it works that way if you use a surrogate, does it?"

They both laughed.

"Not quite, no."

They lingered in the hallway, neither seemed keen to leave the other.

"So," Carla attempted to make conversation. "How is it with a new baby in the house?"

"I dunno," Simon shrugged. "The baby's okay, I guess. But…"

"What?"

"It's a bit weird, ya know, what with Toyah being my kind of aunty, and now she's my sister's mum. Which kinda makes her my step-mum. But still my aunty. It's defo weird, innit?"

"Oh, Si, you should know by now how, umm… complicated families can get. She seems nice, though. Do you get on with her?"

"She's alright," Simon was non-committal. "Guess we're stuck with her now."

"Charming," Carla laughed. "Come on, then, you walking me out or what?"

Carla started to move towards the door that connected the residence with the bar, when Simon reached out and touched Carla's arm.

"Hang on."

Carla stopped and turned to Simon.

"What is it, Si?"

"I'm not gonna get all soppy or owt."

"Okay," Carla hid her amusement.

"But, I, umm… I'm glad you decided to move back here."

"Oh, Si."

"It's kinda nice having me sister around."

"I know Jamie loves hanging out with her big brother."

"Good," Simon nervously shuffled his feet, his eyes downcast with embarrassment at this show of emotion. "I like having you round as well."

Carla hugged Simon, heightening his embarrassment.

"Only cause you're normal compared to the rest of the family."

Carla put her hands either side of Simon's face and kissed his cheek.

"I'll take that. Thanks Si, I appreciate it."

* * *

Carla sat in one of the Rovers booths, nursing a large glass of red wine, and tapping her fingers impatiently on the table.

"Hey," Aidan strode up to the booth.

"Finally," Carla glared at Aidan as he slipped into the seat opposite her. "What took you so long?"

"I had things to do."

"Things to do? How about keeping your appointment with your sister? You know, your business partner?"

"Okay, okay, calm down."

"Sorry."

"What's up with you, anyway?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, right."

"Okay, it's not nothing. It's stupid though. And childish. And…"

"Go on, spit it out."

"Seeing Jamie with her new sister. And Peter and Toyah and Simon all together. This big, happy family."

"That doesn't include you."

"I told you it was stupid."

Aidan reached out and placed his hand gently over Carla's.

"It's not stupid. Not at all."

"It's petty though," Carla dropped her head in shame. "And juvenile. I should be happy for them. And I am, but…"

"You're watching the man you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with start a family with someone else. Of course you're going to be upset. I'd be worried if you weren't."

"Thanks," Carla looked up at Aidan as the tears finally slipped down her cheeks. She wiped them away, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I do this to myself. I can't believe I'm still crying over that man."

Aidan squeezed her hand gently.

"It's okay. Love makes us do strange things."

"I never mentioned love," Carla sniffed in protest.

"You didn't have to. Now, while you compose yourself, would you like another drink?"

"Oh, please. Bring us a whole bottle over, will ya."

"It's gonna be one of those nights, is it?"

"I hope so, Aidan. I really do."

* * *

"And you reckon your boyfriend can deliver in time?"

Aidan and Carla had demolished that first bottle of wine in near record time and were well on their way to finishing a second.

"Hey! If Sam says he can deliver then he can. He's a professional, ya know."

"Unlike some."

"Cheeky."

"Where is he, anyway? And more importantly, when's he back?"

"He's in India… or Sri Lanka. I dunno, maybe that was last trip? Is he in Thailand?"

"Oh my god, you're hopeless."

"Oi!"

"You don't even know which country your boyfriend is in!"

"I do. It's definitely either India or Sri Lanka or Thailand." Carla hung her head in shame. "I'm the worst girlfriend ever, aren't I?"

"Depends. When. is. he. back?"

"Two weeks."

"You're sure?"

"On my life, Sam is back sometime in the next two or three weeks."

Brother and sister both broke down into peals of laughter.

"Looks life we've got some catching up to do," Johnny slid into the seat next to Carla before looking up at his wife. "Jenny, love, do you mind getting the next round in?"

"Oh, if I must. Same again you two?"

"Yes, please Jenny love."

"So, what was so funny?"

"Well," Aidan was happy to jump in with his version of the story. Carla simply rolled her eyes. "We're trying to figure out if we've got enough time to prepare for a showing at Manchester Fashion Week, but this one –" Aidan wagged his finger across the table at Carla, who playfully made a grab for it. "This one doesn't know if our fabrics are gonna be here on time, cause – get a load of this – not only does she not know where her boyfriend is, as in which country he's in, she don't even know when he's gonna be back."

"You know what, little brother? Oh, thanks Jenny." Jenny placed the round of drinks on the table before sitting next to Aidan.

"What?" Aidan exaggerated the word as the wine took its toll on his speech.

"You need to learn the meaning of the word trust."

"Well you need to learn the meaning of the word com-mu-ni-cay-shun."

"You are so annoying. How's that for a little communication."

"Takes one to know one."

"Children, children. Stop fighting. Please."

"We're not fighting," Carla turned to Aidan. "Are we?"

"Not at all. I don't know what you're talking about."

Carla exchanged a cheeky look with Aidan while Johnny simply shook his head.

"You two."

* * *

"Mummy! Mummy!"

"Hey, baby! Come here."

Jamie climbed over Johnny and sat down close to her mum, who wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders and pulled her in close.

"I've missed you. Did you have fun with the baby?"

Jamie nodded excitedly.

"They're coming out?"

"They're what?"

"Daddy and Toyah are coming out with the baby. They picked a name."

"Oh."

Luckily Carla wasn't required to comment as the couple in question now appeared behind the bar of the Rovers. Peter guided Toyah, a protective arm around her waist as she carried their baby girl in her arms.

Aidan snuck a look at Carla.

"You alright?" he whispered.

"Of course. It's… forget I said anything."

"They're calling her Susie," Jamie couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Jamie!" Carla admonished her daughter. "Wait for your dad to make the announcement."

"After daddy's sister, Susan. She died."

The table fell silent, unsure of how to respond to Jamie's matter-of-fact announcement.

Then Peter and Toyah were making the rounds of the pub, showing off baby Susie to their friends and neighbours. When they arrived at the Connors table, Johnny and Jenny each happily held Susie but, when Jenny attempted to hand her over to Carla, the younger woman resisted.

"Oh, no no no. No thanks, I'm – no!"

"I already held her," Jamie proclaimed proudly.

"You sure did darling," Peter looked lovingly at Jamie. "Aidan?"

"Umm… Yeah, why not?"

Baby Susie was placed into Aidan's arms; he stared down at this child, this strange child and was mesmerised. He gently rocked her from side-to-side, soothing the infant's agitation at the unfamiliar and noisy surroundings.

"She's perfect," Aidan murmured, fixated on the little face staring back up at him.

"Someone's getting broody," Johnny quipped.

"Here, give her to me," Toyah held out her arms to Aidan; she wanted her baby back.

"Toyah," Peter admonished her.

"She's due a feed."

Aidan handed the baby over and Toyah immediately carried her through the bar and out to the back room, followed closely by Peter.

Aidan glanced at Carla, who merely shrugged her confusion.

By Carla's side, Jamie suddenly yawned widely and rested her head against her mum's body.

"You tired, sweetheart?"

Jamie nodded sleepily.

"Okay, darling, let's get you home and into bed."

"I might walk with you, if that's okay?" Aidan rose from his seat as Carla and Jamie made their preparations to leave.

"Yeah, of course. If I can ever get this one to stand up."

"I'm too tired, mummy," Jamie held her arms out.

"Oh, baby, you're too big for that now."

"Mummy," Jamie pleaded, her lower lip stuck out in a determined pout.

"Here, let me."

Aidan reached down and picked Jamie up; she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

"Thank you, Uncle Aidan."

"That's okay, angel. You go to sleep, I've got you."

Aidan held tight to Jamie's waist as she rested her head on his shoulder and almost instantly fell asleep.

* * *

The trio walked the short distance to Carla and Jamie's flat in silence; not an awkward silence, a companionable silence. Aidan hesitated as they came to a stop outside the Victoria Court security door.

"Do you want me to bring her up?"

"No, I'm fine from here. You go on and get home."

Aidan kissed Jamie on the cheek and passed her over to her mother.

"I'll see you in the morning, yeah? Outside the factory. Nine a-m."

"Yeah," Aidan's mind was obviously elsewhere.

"Are you alright?"

"Umm… I was just, I dunno. It's nothing, I'll see you tomorrow. Love you."

Aidan kissed Carla quickly, almost absently, on her forehead before turning and walking away.

"Aidan!"

But Aidan didn't hear, or didn't want to hear. He kept walking away into the darkness.

Carla watched him go. She wanted to go after him and had taken a few tentative steps when Jamie stirred in her arms.

"Mummy, bed."

"Okay, darling."

Carla took one last look at Aidan, who had by this time almost completely disappeared into the shadows, before turning towards home. She comforted herself with the thought that she would be seeing him in a few hours and promised herself that she would take the time to talk to him properly then.

* * *

Carla looked at her watch: 9.30am.

"Mummy!"

Carla looked down at Jamie; her daughter was sitting on the top step of the Underworld entrance and it was obvious that she was not happy at being kept waiting.

"Why are we waiting?" Jamie demanded to know. "Have you called him?"

Carla hid a smile; she had always encouraged Jamie to be forthright in her opinions and feelings, but the sight of her daughter acting like a mini-Carla in factory boss mode always made her want to laugh.

"Yes, darling, I've called Uncle Aidan. He's not answering."

"Mummy. I'm bored."

"Stay here a minute, okay."

Carla walked out of the factory forecourt and peered up and down Coronation Street. There was no sign of Aidan, but she did spy Peter stood outside the Rovers smoking a cigarette.

"Peter!" Carla's voice echoed down the almost deserted street.

Peter jogged to where Carla stood waiting, not wanting to walk any further away from where Jamie was sat on the steps of Underworld.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I need a favour."

"Shoot."

"Can you keep an eye on Jamie for five minutes or so? Aidan hasn't turned up for a meeting so I just wanna run down to his flat, see what's kept him."

"Sure, no problem."

"Gotta warn you, though, she's in a bit of a mood."

"Oh?"

"Doesn't like being kept waiting, that one."

"Reminds me of someone else I know."

"Stop it," Carla couldn't help but grin at Peter. For a moment, their eyes locked and time stood still. Until…

"Mummy!"

"She's all yours."

* * *

"Aidan?"

Carla slipped Aidan's spare flat keys back into her bag as she entered his home.

An eery silence enveloped the flat; beyond the walls, Carla could faintly hear the sounds of life on the street and below in the kebab shop. But here, inside, the silence was almost deafening in its severity.

Despite the relatively late hour, the blinds were still closed, creating a dim, gloomy effect. Carla switched the main living area lights on, but this did little to disperse the atmosphere. It merely served to highlight the strange emptiness.

"Aidan? You home?"

Carla looked about the room and noticed a folded piece of paper propped up on top of a chair. With a sense of growing dread, she slowly walked towards the paper, her arm outstretched, ready to pick it up.

Then she was holding the paper in her hands, but she couldn't bring herself to read it.

"Come on, Carla," she admonished herself. "Don't be such a baby."

She lowered her eyes to the paper in her hands and read the scant eight words written, Carla could tell immediately, in Aidan's hand.

'Don't go in the bathroom. Call the police.'

The paper dropped from Carla's hand and fluttered to the ground as if in slow motion. It was as if the world had been knocked off course; the room span before Carla's eyes, a thick fog settled over her mind.

Carla turned to face the bathroom door; she knew she was about to walk into a nightmare, but she had no choice but to keep going. She never contemplated following Aidan's instructions; she couldn't let a stranger make the discovery, it had to be someone who loved him.

She slowly turned the bathroom door handle, gently pushed the door open and took a step inside.

Carla stood rooted to the spot in the middle of her brother's bathroom. She had known what she was going to find as soon as she had read that note. But it was still a shock when she saw him; still instant devastation and overwhelming guilt. She had failed him in life; she determined to do right by him now. But how? Whatever happened, he was going to be subject to the most humiliating physical and emotional intrusions, but ones that he no longer had any control over. She would have to take that control; to protect him.

She had to call someone, she knew that. But before she could find her mobile, she heard muffled voices on the stairs.

"Daddy, no! I wanna see Uncle Aidan."

"Oh god," Carla realised the danger and ran out of the bathroom.

"No! Don't come in here!"

She opened the front door of the flat just as Peter was reaching for the handle on the other side, Jamie stood right behind him.

"You can't come in here."

"Carla, what –?"

"Please, Peter, take Jamie away. Right now."

"Carla, what's going on?"

"Please just go, I'll explain –"

"I wanna see Uncle Aidan," Jamie proclaimed.

"No."

"Uncle Aidan!"

Jamie tried to push past Carla and enter the flat, but Carla grabbed onto her and held on tight; there was no way she was letting her daughter into that flat.

"Jamie! No!"

"Ow! Let go!" Jamie struggled to free herself from her mother's grip. "Mummy, you're hurting me."

"Jamie, stop it. Now, listen to me. You get down those stairs right now and wait for your dad at the bottom."

"But –"

"Now."

Jamie knew that when her mother used that tone, she meant business. Begrudgingly, Jamie stomped down the stairs, making as much noise as she dared with each step.

As soon as their daughter was out of earshot, Peter turned to Carla for an explanation.

"Carla, please tell me what's going on. Why can't we come in?"

Carla let out a half gasp, half sob.

"Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I can't –"

Carla began to lose that control she'd just determined to maintain. She wiped furiously at the tears that began silently streaming down her face. Peter reached out and held her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears.

"Carla? Tell me."

Carla looked into Peter's eyes and felt immediate comfort.

"It's Aidan." It took Carla a long time before she could say the words out loud. "Peter, he's killed himself."

Peter didn't speak; he simply wrapped Carla tightly in his arms and held her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Sshhh…" Peter gently stroked Carla's hair as he rocked her from side to side.

"Peter," Carla desperately tried once again to regain that control. "You need to go, you need to get Jamie away from here."

"I can't leave you, not like this."

"Please, Peter, I need to know that she's safe away from here. Please, look after our daughter."

"Okay, of course," Peter let go of Carla, ready to fulfil his promise. "Carla? I'm so sorry."

Carla nodded; she didn't trust herself to speak, not to break down.

As soon as Peter had left, Carla returned to the bathroom and knelt by Aidan's body.

"My beautiful, brave boy," as she gently stroked his brow. "Why? Why didn't you talk to me? You promised me you would talk to me."

Carla leaned forward and rested her forehead on Aidan's chest. It suddenly hit her that his chest did not move, it did not rise up and down as it used to do, breathing life into his lungs. That life was gone forever from his body.

"Oh my god, what have you done? What have you done?"


	20. Chapter 20: Cast away

_**Trigger warning: suicide/mental health**_

* * *

**Chapter 20: Cast away**

Carla stood silently on the front steps of Underworld, the factory key in her hand. But she couldn't quite bring herself to unlock the door.

She and Aidan were meant to have done this together that day… that day her world came tumbling down.

She took a deep breath and slid the key into the lock, twisted it and pushed the door open. She forced herself to step inside the dark factory; it was the least she could do to honour him and everything they'd been working towards as a team.

* * *

Pushing Susie in her pram, Peter happened to see Carla's anguished entry into Underworld. He looked ahead to the Rovers where he knew Toyah was waiting for him, no doubt highly anxious as she always seemed to be whenever Susie was out of her sight. Then he looked down at Susie herself; she was awake, but quite content being pushed along by her daddy.

He knew what he had to do, what he wanted to do.

* * *

Carla didn't turn on the factory lights; it would be like turning a spotlight on her pain, forcing her to deal with it, to process it. She wasn't ready for that; she didn't think she would ever be.

Instead she wandered around the factory floor, mentally creating a plan in her mind of where each machine would have gone, who would be sat at which machine, the layout of the lunch room where the machinists would gossip their tea breaks away.

And then there was the office, that glass cube from where she and Aidan would have run their empire. A backstreet factory might have seemed insignificant to some, but to her it had been the centre of her existence for over a decade. When the people in her life had let her down, there had always been her factory; her anchor; her consolation.

Her desk would be facing the door of course; even though they were meant to be equal partners, Carla couldn't help but take that little bit more control whenever she had the opportunity. She didn't even know she was doing it most of the time, it had been so ingrained into her character. She had always thought Aidan understood this about her and simply laughed it off. But what if it had affected him more than he let on? What if this was one of the reasons –"

"Hey."

Carla spun around, shocked to see Peter with Susie in her pram just outside the office door.

"Peter. What are you doing here?"

"I, umm, I saw you come in and, I dunno, I didn't want you to be in here on your own."

"Oh," Carla walked up to Peter and looked down into the pram. She smiled when she saw Susie waving her arms about and making cute bubbling noises. "Can I…?"

"Sure."

Carla reached into the pram and picked Susie up; she rested the baby against her shoulder and gently rocked her from side to side, delighting in the feel of Susie's warm delicate skin against her cheek.

Peter watched Carla and tried to imagine what she had been like when Jamie was a newborn; what sort of mother she had been. He saw what she was like now; loving, proud, firm when she needed to be. And Jamie adored her mum, that was obvious.

But seeing her around a newborn was a completely different experience; seeing how she nurtured a creature that was utterly helpless and dependent on the adults around it. He realised he never gave her enough credit during their marriage; back then he believed that she wasn't naturally maternal, that she would be a hands-off mother, that she would struggle to show a baby love. He was wrong. So wrong.

"How you doing? Sorry, that was a stupid question."

"Don't be silly, there's no right or wrong questions."

"What about answers?"

"Oh, well… Time, it goes on and I find I'm still standing. I haven't fallen apart. I think that's as much as I can hope for right now."

"And Johnny?"

"He wants answers. And he's not stopping until he gets them. I don't know what he'll do when he realises that we might never get answers, that we might never make sense of what happened."

"Aidan didn't leave any clues, a note or anything to say why he… you know?"

Carla couldn't answer. Aidan hadn't left an explanatory note, that was true. But Carla couldn't pretend she didn't know something of what her brother was feeling; of his desperation, his despair.

She thought back to the time she'd found him standing on the edge of the hotel roof in London. Should she have told someone? Should she have tried harder to help him?

* * *

"Something must have happened after he left the pub," Johnny turned to Carla. "Did he say anything on the way back to yours?"

"I…" Carla struggled to find the words. How could she tell Johnny the truth?

"Someone must have said something to him after he left you."

Johnny paced the floor of his and Jenny's flat as he tried desperately to fit the pieces of his son's last night together.

"Love, you need to stop torturing yourself." Jenny tried to comfort Johnny but he shook her off.

"We should look at CCTV. The kebab shop, Roys, who else? Maybe he ran into someone. They must've said something to him. Someone's seen something. They know something."

"What's the point?" Kate piped up from her spot in the corner of the room. "It's not gonna bring him back, is it? It's a waste of time."

"We need to know why, Kate." Johnny glared at his daughter. "We need answers."

Johnny stopped his pacing and gripped the back of a bar stool; he dropped his head, his face a twisted outer representation of his inner anguish.

"If we'd only known. We could've helped him. Why didn't he say anything?"

Carla knew that this was the time; she had to speak, she couldn't let Johnny torture himself any longer.

"He did."

Carla spoke so softly that Johnny didn't hear her at first.

"Johnny. Aidan did say something. To me."

It took a moment for Carla's words to sink into Johnny's confused mind. When they finally did, he turned slowly to look at his daughter.

"You knew?" Johnny spoke in terrifyingly low and calm tones.

"Yes."

"Tell me everything."

Carla hung her head; she couldn't bring herself to speak. She just shook her head, her breath drawn in with great gasps of air.

"Carla!"

Carla nodded; it was time. She raised her head and looked at her father, ready to confess.

* * *

Johnny was speechless after Carla's confession. He tried to make sense of what she had said, but none of it made any sense at all. The only conclusion he could come to was that, if Carla had told him, he would've been able to help his son. His son would still be alive. If not for Carla. It was Carla's fault that Aidan was dead. Carla.

"You," Johnny stared at this daughter of his, a stranger to him most of his life; how he wished it had stayed that way. "You knew and you said nothing."

"He made me promise."

"He wasn't in his right mind. You should have told me."

"What would you have done differently?"

"I would've got him help. Professional help."

"He had help but it didn't work. And if I'd told you, he would never have forgiven me. And then he'd have no one to talk to."

"What difference would that've made? You were useless. He may as well have told no one for all the good you did."

"That's not fair."

"You know what's not fair? My son, my beautiful kind-hearted boy, is dead. And you could've saved him."

"I tried. Please believe me, I tried to help him."

"Get out."

"Johnny, please."

"Get out! And don't you ever come back here."

"Johnny, you don't mean that," Jenny tried to fight Carla's corner.

"Don't you start. You hated Aidan."

"I didn't –"

"And now you're taking her side over mine?"

"Love, this isn't about taking sides."

"It is," Johnny suddenly became deathly calm. "It's her or me. Make your decision, because there's no turning back."

"Dad," Kate pleaded. "Don't do this."

"No one has to decide," Carla put on her jacket and picked up her bag. "No one has to pick sides. I'll go. If that makes things easier for you."

Carla walked towards the door.

"Don't come to the funeral," Johnny spat at her. "You're not welcome."

* * *

"Peter, it's time."

Peter followed Toyah out the front door of the Rovers and stood on the footpath alongside Toyah, Leanne and Eva, who had just returned from America. There they waited, standing solemnly shoulder to shoulder. He glanced down the street; many other Coronation Street residents were doing the same, paying their respects as one of their own was laid to rest.

The unmistakeable silhouette of a hearse was the first vehicle to inch around the corner, followed by a short cortege of sleek black town cars. The previous evening, word had spread that Johnny wanted only family at the funeral. Peter had tried to ring Carla to find out what was going on, but she never answered his calls.

To his right, Peter could hear Eva begin to sob as the hearse drove past, Aidan's coffin clearly visible, but he paid no attention, he knew Leanne and Toyah would take care of her. His attention was focused on the cars that followed behind. He peered in through the windows as they drove slowly past. In the first was Johnny, Jenny and Kate; then came Robert and Michelle with Jamie huddled close to her Aunty Chelle; finally, Maria, Ryan and Ali.

That was it; the extent of the funeral procession. But no Carla.

As the procession turned and disappeared from view, the residents all, one by one, returned inside their homes or businesses.

"You coming in, Peter?"

Peter turned to Toyah and stared at her blankly.

"Umm…"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I, ah, I gotta go."

"Now?"

"Look, I won't be long. I need to, umm, I'll, umm, see you later."

Before Toyah had a chance to protest, Peter had turned and hurried away from the Rovers.

"Peter!" Toyah called after him, to no avail; Peter was gone.

* * *

Carla sat alone in her flat. Jamie had gone to the funeral, and even the cat seemed to have deserted her. All she had left for company was the bottle of wine she was planning on drinking.

She wasted no time in pouring the wine. She picked up the glass, held it to her lips and slowly drained the glass. As she drank, her eye caught the time on the wall clock: almost 11am. They would be arriving by now. She poured herself another glass.

When her security buzzer sounded, she ignored it; the only people she wanted to see would at that moment be at Aidan's funeral. But the caller kept buzzing.

"Go away!" Carla yelled at the unseen caller, even though they would never hear her.

And then, the buzzing stopped, the caller gave up.

"Finally."

Carla reached down for another drink when there was a knock at the door.

"Carla!" Peter's muffled voice through the door.

Carla remained silent, hoping Peter would eventually give up and leave.

"Carla! Let me in. I know you're not at the funeral."

Carla sighed; all she wanted was to be on her own.

Or did she?

"Carla, I'm not leaving until you let me in."

Carla flung the door open and met Peter with a combative look.

"What?"

Peter immediately clocked the wine glass in Carla's hand and, walking past her into the flat, the now half-empty wine bottle on the coffee table.

Peter picked up the bottle and turned to confront Carla.

"Is this a good idea?"

"Do not lecture me, okay. Not today."

"Why aren't you at the funeral?"

Carla didn't answer.

"Carla?"

"Johnny didn't want me there."

"What? Why?"

"Because he blames me."

"For what?"

"Aidan's death."

"But that's crazy! I don't.. I mean, why?"

"I knew, Peter. About Aidan. That he was depressed, that he was seeing a therapist. You remember when me and Aidan went to London that time?"

"Yeah, of course."

"One night I found him on the roof of the hotel. I thought he was gonna jump."

"What?"

"I talked him down and he promised to get help and, you know, we'd talk about how he was doing every now and then. I thought he was doing okay. I didn't know he was thinking… I didn't know, Peter. I didn't know."

Carla began to cry inconsolably; mourning not only the loss of her brother, but of her family as well.

"That's it, let it out."

Peter moved towards Carla, his arms outstretched, ready to hold her. She didn't resist; she walked into his embrace and dropped her head to his shoulder, as his hand reached up and stroked her hair.

"It's not your fault, Carla."

"Johnny thinks it is."

"He's grieving and he doesn't understand why, I mean, you don't, do you? And he's just lashing out trying to find someone, anyone to blame."

"What if he's right? Hey? What if I could've done more?"

"Darling, listen to me. This was Aidan's decision. His. Not yours."

Carla felt so calm in Peter's embrace; calmer than she'd felt in… she couldn't even remember. She instinctively turned her face inwards and nuzzled into his neck. Peter kissed her softly on the top of her head, one hand still gently stroking her hair, the other wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him.

"Let's get out of here, love."

Carla looked up at Peter, confused.

"Where?"

"There's somewhere you need to go."

* * *

"I'm not sure about this, Peter. They don't want me here."

"It's okay," Peter gently stroked Carla's back, comforting and reassuring her. "They've all gone now."

Carla looked at Peter, tears welling in her eyes once more.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"You need to say goodbye."

Carla knew Peter was right, but she felt unprepared; she had reconciled in her mind that she wasn't going to Aidan's funeral but now here she was, about to be confronted by his freshly dug grave.

"I'll be with you every step of the way."

"Thank you. Really, I couldn't do this without you."

Peter held out his hand to Carla; she slipped her hand into his and held on tight.

"I'm here for you, Carla. I always will be. Never forget that."


	21. Chapter 21: Endless night

**Chapter 21: Endless night**

Peter strolled along the cobbles, cigarette in one hand, pint of milk in the other. He wasn't the type to be wandering the streets at this early hour but, after a sleepless night up with baby Susie, Peter needed to get outside, stretch his legs, and get some fresh air.

A taxi drove past him, not a Streetcars taxi, more of a high-end town car firm. Peter continued to watch as the taxi pulled over in front of Victoria Court and Sam emerged from the back seat and stretched his legs.

Peter turned to walk away, but too late; Sam had seen him.

"Peter!"

Peter reluctantly turned around and fixed a look of mild surprise on his face.

"Hey Sam, you're back then?"

"Yeah, just got in this morning."

"Delayed were you?"

"No, everything went to plan actually." Sam looked at Peter curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I'm surprised that's all. I would've thought you'd be on the first plane back."

Sam paid the taxi driver and moved his suitcases off the road before confronting Peter.

"Peter, mate, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Ah… You mean… You don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"Oh, god, I'm sorry. Me and my big mouth."

"Peter. What's going on?"

"It's not my place to say."

"Please, Peter, if there's something I should know."

Peter shuffled nervously on the spot; he silently cursed Carla for putting him in this position, while wondering why she hadn't told her supposed boyfriend such huge news in the first place.

"Fair enough, you've got a right to know."

* * *

"What do you want for breakfast, sweetheart?" Carla looked across the kitchen island to where Jamie was sat on a barstool organising the pink backpack she always took with her to nursery.

"Umm, toast and, umm, peanut butter and banana," Jamie ordered her favourite breakfast with a grin.

Carla looked pointedly at Jamie.

"Please," Jamie added.

"Good girl. Juice or milk?"

"Juice! Please."

Carla smiled indulgently as she began to prepare her daughter's breakfast.

"Don't forget to pack your snack box," Carla nodded to the soft insulated bag she had left on the countertop earlier that morning.

"What's in it?" Jamie queried as she reached for the bag.

"Mandarin, raisins, cherry tomatoes and a yoghurt pot."

"What flavour yoghurt?"

"Strawberry. Is that okay with you?"

"Mummy, you know strawberry my favourite!"

Carla laughed.

The unmistakeable sound of a key sliding into a lock; Carla and Jamie both turned to watch as the door slowly opened to reveal Sam, laden with suitcases, standing in the doorway.

"Sam!" Jamie slid down from the bar stool and ran over to Sam, who picked her up and wrapped her up in a big bear hug.

"Hey, baby girl. I've missed you."

"Mummy's making peanut butter and banana toast for breakfast."

"Is she now?" Sam looked up at Carla as he placed Jamie back on the ground. "Sounds nice."

"Do you want some?"

"I'd prefer a proper welcome home."

Carla walked uneasily to Sam and gave him a quick kiss.

"Welcome home."

Sam watched, confused, as Carla returned to her breakfast prep.

"Is there something you forgot to tell me?"

Carla simply looked at Sam; she tried to make the look innocent and questioning, but failed miserably.

"I bumped into Peter as I was arriving. He told me everything."

"Oh, that was good of him," Carla was sarcastic as ever.

"This isn't his fault, he thought you would've told me. So would I for that matter."

"Let's not do this right now, okay? Not in front of you know who."

"You can't put it off forever, Carla."

"Listen, why don't you have a shower, freshen up. I'll drop Jamie off at nursery and then we can talk."

Sam stared at Carla; she could see the hurt in his eyes, the questions, the doubts. She looked away.

"Come on, miss, let's get you breakfast before you're late for nursery."

Carla returned to the busyness of preparing Jamie's breakfast, avoiding Sam's probing gaze at all costs.

"I guess I'll have a shower then."

Carla watched Sam walk away with a growing feeling of dread.

* * *

Carla stood on her own doorstep, afraid to open the door. She knew what was waiting for her inside and she was not ready to face it.

Ever since Aidan had died, Carla had made an extra effort to appear normal in front of Jamie, not that she really knew what normal was anymore. But as soon as she was alone, she fell almost immediately to pieces.

Now she was about to be alone with Sam and she was scared; of breaking down, of saying the wrong thing, of not saying what needed to be said.

Quickly, before she bottled it and ran away to nurse a glass of wine in the corner of The Bistro like she had on more than one occasion in the past few weeks, Carla unlocked and opened her front door and walked inside.

Immediately, she was confronted by Sam, sat at the dining table, waiting for her.

"You want a brew?"

Carla nodded.

* * *

Both Sam and Carla were seated at the dining table, each focusing way too much of their attention on the cup of tea they were cradling in their hands.

Sam was the first to break the silence.

"Carla, I'm so sorry about Aidan. I can't imagine what you're going through."

"Thanks. I'm coping."

"Good."

The couple sat in a very uncomfortable silence. Sam was waiting for Carla to explain herself; Carla was determined not to say anything at all. So it was up to Sam.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Umm… I didn't want to spoil your business trip."

"Come off it, Carla. We're meant to be in a relationship. We live together. We tell each other when major things happen in our lives. So don't give me this nonsense about business trips."

Carla's mouth tried to form words, but no sound came out.

"Well? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I, umm… I didn't want you here."

"Right," Sam struggled to process Carla's words. "You didn't want anyone? Or just me? Let me guess, you wanted someone in particular? Peter?"

"It's not like that."

"But you want it to be."

"Excuse me?" Carla was angry now. "Are you seriously accusing me of manipulating my own brother's suicide to try and catch a man?"

"Maybe. I don't know, Carla. I don't know what goes on in that head of yours anymore."

"Trust me, you don't wanna be in my head."

"That's the thing though, isn't it? I'm not in your head. Or your heart. I'm still in your business because business always comes first for you, doesn't it?"

"That's not true."

"Still in your bed, keeping you warm at night. Tell me, when we make love – no! There's obviously no love. When we fuck, do you think of him?"

"I think you should go," the first tears started to fall down Carla's cheeks.

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean it. I just, I don't understand where it all went wrong."

Sam reached out and tried to wipe the tears from Carla's cheek, but she pushed his hand away.

"I don't love you anymore. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Just like that?"

"No. I think it's been coming on for a while," Carla tried to explain, even though she didn't quite understand it herself. "It's no one's fault. It just, it happens sometimes. People fall out of love."

"I didn't."

"I'm sorry."

"You used to love me?"

"I did. Very much."

"Then you can love me again. Just give us another chance."

Carla shook her head. Now that she had said the words, she was determined to see it through.

"I'm sorry, Sam, it's over. We're over."

* * *

As Carla sat on her sofa in the dark later that night, she realised for the first time how truly alone she was. Her brother was gone, the rest of her family hated her, and now she'd thrown away a good man for what? A fantasy? A dream that could never become a reality; she wouldn't let it. She wasn't the same woman she had been in the past, the type of woman who would tear a family apart just to get the man she wanted.

Carla couldn't help it; here in the dark, on her own, she couldn't stop the tears from falling, from sobs taking over her body, shaking her small frame as she wept in the depths of her despair.

Then she felt it, something warm and furry in her lap. She opened her eyes; Jamie, dressed in her pyjamas, fresh from her bed, had placed Snowy the cat in her mum's lap.

"Cuddle him, mummy," Jamie instructed. "Snowy cuddles make me feel better when I'm sad."

But Carla didn't cuddle Snowy; she reached out and cuddled her daughter instead.

Now there were two of them, sitting side by side on the sofa, in the dark. Mother and daughter loving each other, helping each other through this endless night of grief and loss.

"Mummy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Is Sam coming back?"

"No, baby, I'm sorry, he's not."

"Okay."

Carla pulled her daughter in for a hug.

"It's just you and me now, kid."

"And Snowy," Jamie corrected her mum.

Carla laughed. "Yeah, and Snowy."

* * *

Jamie wandered around the flat; she was hungry, she wanted breakfast. But her mum was still in bed. She dragged a chair from the dining table into the kitchen and set about making herself her favourite breakfast: peanut butter and banana on toast.

She took two slices of bread and slotted them into the toaster. While she waited for the bread to turn a crispy golden brown, she reached into the high cupboard and pulled out the jar of peanut butter. From the fruit bowl on the kitchen island she retrieved a banana and laid it out on a chopping board, ready to slice.

Finally, the toast was ready. She laid the slices out on a plate and, using a spoon, smeared great globules of peanut butter over the surface. Turning to the chopping board, she firstly peeled the banana and then pulled a knife from the knife block.

* * *

Carla hadn't slept that night; the truth was she had hardly slept since the day she had found Aidan. She simply lay there and stared at the ceiling or, turning her face to her pillow, sobbed until her head pounded with dehydration.

She knew she should get up, that Jamie would need her attention, but she couldn't face her daughter; she couldn't face anyone or anything.

Then it started; the screaming. It took Carla a few moments to comprehend that the screaming was real and not inside her head. Not only was the screaming real, it was coming from inside her flat, it was coming from her daughter.

In a flash, Carla was out of bed and running to the kitchen. She was horrified by the sight that confronted her; Jamie was stood on a chair in the middle of the kitchen, tears streaming down her face, and her hand held out in front of her, blood streaming from one of her fingers.

"Oh, baby!" Carla rushed to her daughter and frantically worked to stem the flow of blood. "It's okay, baby, you're gonna be okay."

Both mother and daughter were sobbing now, creating a grotesque combination of blood and tears. Even though Carla could now see that the cut on Jamie's finger was minor, she couldn't help but imagine what might have happened. And all because she was too preoccupied with her own worries to look after her daughter. What had become clear to Carla was that Jamie was in real danger if she remained under her care; something had to be done.

* * *

Carla opened the door to her flat and held it ajar.

"Hi, come in."

"You sounded upset on the phone," Peter walked past Carla and leaned against the kitchen island. "Has something happened?"

"I need a favour. And I need you to not ask any questions."

"Carla, what's going on?"

"I, umm…"

"Listen, whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I need you to take Jamie for a few days."

"Of course, she's always welcome at mine. Is everything okay here?"

"I'm just… not coping very well," Carla's voice wavered with the stress of being constantly on the verge of tears. "And I don't want her to see me like this."

"Where's Sam? Can he help?"

"Sam's gone. We split up."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it was for the best."

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine as soon as he realises he's better off without me."

"Hey, don't put yourself down. Any man would be lucky to be with you."

"That's not true and you know it. I mean, look at my track record. Paul, dead. Tony, dead. Frank, dead. You, didn't last a day of marriage before you'd moved on to someone else. And Nick? We didn't even make it through the reception."

"So you've had some bad luck with relationships. The fact is, you are an amazing mum. You don't need to send Jamie away."

"I do. I really do. Peter, I was so busy feeling sorry for myself this morning, that Jamie tried to fix herself breakfast."

"So?"

"With a sharp knife, Peter. She almost sliced her finger off."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. She's seen a doctor and it's just a flesh wound."

"Thank god."

"The point is, Peter, it should never have happened. If I was in a fit state to look after her, it wouldn't have happened. I just need a few days. Please."

"Just a few days, yeah?"

"Yeah," Carla reached out and took Peter's hand in hers. "Thank you."

* * *

"Umm…" Jamie surveyed the extensive range of plastic beads in varying shades of pink, purple, orange and silver – all of her favourite colours – spread out on the table in the back room of the Rovers before pointing at one in particular. "That one."

Peter picked up the bead, hot pink and faceted, and presented it to Jamie. "This one?"

Jamie nodded. So Peter carefully threaded the bead onto a length of thin black string that already contained a multitude of beads threaded in no particular pattern or style, all under the watchful gaze of his daughter.

"How's that?"

Jamie picked up the string of beads and wrapped it around Peter's wrist before looking up at him eagerly.

"Do you like it, daddy?"

"Yes, sweetheart, I love it."

"I made it for you."

"For… me?"

Jamie nodded. "It's a present."

"Oh, darling, wow, thank you."

"It's not finished yet, silly."

Jamie took the beads off her dad's wrist and laid it down on the table before opening up her box of beads and pulling out a simple silver clasp.

"You have to tie these to the ends. Then you can take it on and off."

"You're very clever, you know that?"

"I know, daddy."

Peter laughed, kissed Jamie's forehead, and tweaked her nose, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.

* * *

Michelle approached the busy Rovers bar apprehensively. She hated asking the current owners for any kind of favour, but she was desperate. She was thankful that it was Eva who served her and not Leanne or Toyah.

"Yes, Michelle, what can I get you?"

"Some change if you can manage it?" Michelle held out a twenty-pound note to Eva. "Ones and twos if you've got them."

"Give us a minute." Eva took the money from Michelle's hand and made her way to the til.

"Toyah, we're short-staffed as it is," Leanne hissed to Toyah. The two sisters were standing what they thought was out of earshot of the bar patrons; Michelle couldn't help but eavesdrop. "Where is Peter, anyway?"

"He's out back, looking after Jamie."

"Jamie? I didn't know Peter had access today."

"He didn't. Until Carla begged him to take her off her hands for a few days."

"A few days? Why? What's wrong with her?"

"I'm not sure, just that Peter said she was in a right state. I dunno what she's playing at. I mean, as if we don't have enough on our plates, what with this place and a new baby. We don't need an extra kid to look after on top of all that."

"To be fair, Toyah," Leanne tried to reason with her sister. "Jamie is Peter's daughter as well."

"Yeah. With _her_."

"Here ya go, Michelle." Eva handed over to Michelle a small ziplock bag containing one and two pound coins.

"Thanks Eva."

Michelle tried to tune back into Leanne and Toyah's conversation, but they'd moved out of earshot. She reflected on what she'd heard; "Peter said she was in a right state."

* * *

"Carla!" Michelle banged on Carla's front door.

No answer.

"Carla!" Michelle banged some more but was met with yet more silence.

But Michelle wasn't prepared to give up; she retrieved Carla's spare flat key from her bag and let herself in.

Inside the flat was gloomy and the air stuffy; all the blinds and windows were closed.

"Can't you take a hint?" Carla's nasal drawl came out of the darkness.

"That's what best friends are for, innit."

Unfazed by Carla's hostility, Michelle strode to the windows, opening the blinds to let the light stream in and the windows for some fresh air before turning her attention to said best friend.

"Oh, Carla," Michelle sighed as she surveyed the wreckage. "What's going on?"

Michelle approached Carla where she half lay on the sofa, surrounded by empty wine bottles, crisp packets and an open laptop revealing a paused Netflix show.

"I've discovered the meaning of life."

"I'm being serious," Michelle sat down next to Carla and laid a comforting hand on her knee. "No offence babes, but when was the last time you had a shower?"

"You can leave if I'm so offensive to you. No one asked you in, you know!"

"I'm sorry. But this –" Michelle looked around at Carla's squalor, "- isn't you. I know you've had a big shock, with Aidan, and now Sam -"

"I wanted Sam to leave."

"Okay, Aidan then. And it's gonna be hard for a while, I'm not saying it won't. But you'll get through this. You're stronger than this."

"Am I?"

"Of course you are, darling. How many times have you been knocked down? Hey? And every time you come back stronger than ever. You're a fighter. Always have been."

"I'm tired of fighting, Chelle." Carla's voice cracked. "I'm so tired."

"Oh, darling," Michelle wrapped her arms around Carla's shoulder; Carla sank into Michelle and broke down sobbing.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Michelle questioned a freshly showered Carla as she walked back into the living room in a fluffy white dressing gown.

"Honestly? The same, you know, in here." Carla tapped her abdomen. "But a little cleaner."

"Well, that's something, innit?"

"Yeah."

The two best friends exchanged warm smiles.

"I've made you some dinner," Michelle explained.

"Oh, Chelle, I'm not really hungry."

"You need to eat some proper food. No arguments."

"Yes, mum."

"And listen," Michelle walked up to Carla and gently brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. "You're not alone. Okay?"

Carla nodded, blinking back the tears that were ever present, ready to fall at the least provocation.

"I don't care what Johnny says, what you say, what anyone says. I will always be here for you. Always."

"Thanks, Chelle."

The two friends wrapped their arms around each other and held on tight.

"I really don't want to leave you like this."

"Go on, Chelle, I'll be fine. I promise. You've got a bistro to run."

"You call me, okay? Any time. Don't be a martyr."

* * *

Peter wrapped the soiled nappy in a nappy bag and placed it to the side ready to take to the bin. He then turned his attention back to Susie who was wriggling about on the changing mat, quite happy to be nappy free.

"Okay, Miss Barlow, let's get you sorted out."

Peter had wanted to be a hands-on dad after missing out on both Simon and Jamie's early years. So, in the short time that Susie had been with him and Toyah, he had become quite an expert in nappy changing. Peter cherished every moment he got to spend with Susie, even if it meant cleaning up some very messy situations.

The fact that his other daughter was at that very moment also sleeping under his roof made him, he believed, the happiest man on earth. Almost. He wasn't so overcome by fatherly love that he didn't recognise that other aspects of his life were far from perfect, but he'd decided to take his consolation where he could find it. And that was in his three children: Simon, Jamie and Susie.

Having settled Susie back in her cot, Peter tiptoed out of the nursery and was headed to the kitchen to make himself a brew when he heard whimpering coming from Jamie's bedroom.

He knocked softly on her bedroom door and gently pushed it open.

"Jamie?" Peter whispered in his most soothing gravelly voice.

The quiet sobbing paused momentarily.

"Daddy?"

Peter came fully into the room now and knelt by Jamie's bed.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?"

Jamie shook her head.

"Do you feel sick?"

Jamie shook her head again.

"I want mummy."

"Oh, darling. You can see your mum tomorrow."

This only caused Jamie to begin sobbing again, even more violently than before, her tiny body shaking with emotion.

"I want my mummy. I wanna go home."

"Sshhh, it's okay, baby." Peter did his best to comfort his daughter, but she had worked herself into such a state that only her mum would do.

"I want mummy."

As Jamie began to wail with increasing volume, Peter pulled out his phone and placed a call.

"Peter?" Carla answered almost immediately. "Is something wrong? Is Jamie hurt? Is that her crying? Peter, what's going on?"

"If you give me a chance, please. Listen, it's nothing to worry about. She's just a little bit homesick and finding it hard to sleep."

"Did something happen to upset her?"

"No. She just… she misses her mum."

"Put me on speaker, will you?"

Peter put the phone on speaker and placed it on the bedside table.

"Jamie? Sweetheart, your mum's on the phone."

"Mummy?" Jamie was immediately alert and eager, her tears already a distant memory.

"Hey darling."

"Hi mummy."

"Have you had a nice day with daddy?"

"Yes."

"What did you two do together?"

"Umm, after breakfast, me, daddy and Simon went to the park. And then daddy helped me with my beads. And I made daddy a bracelet."

"Oh, I bet he loved that. I can't wait to see him wearing it."

Peter smirked in the background as he listened to Carla's subtle mocking.

"Then what did you do?"

"Me and daddy watched a movie and had pizza."

"Pizza? Gosh, you are getting spoiled. And then what? Bed?"

"Uh huh."

"Daddy tells me you're having trouble sleeping, baby."

"Yeah," Jamie started to get emotional again. "I wanna come home, mummy."

"You know I'm going to see you tomorrow, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And I'm gonna be thinking about you all the time until then. And you know what?"

"What?"

"If you think of me, then it's like we're not really apart. Because you'll be in my thoughts and I'll be in yours. Just like, no matter where you are, or what you're doing, you will always be in my heart. Okay?"

"Okay. Mummy?"

"Yes, baby."

"Can you read me a story?"

"Of course, darling. Any requests?"

"Umm… Pooh! The one with the party!"

"Okay, baby, let me find that one…here it is. You ready?"

"Yes."

"Is daddy ready?"

"Daddy's ready," Peter was looking forward to it.

"Alright then, here we go." Carla cleared her throat dramatically. "It was a beautiful autumn morning in the Hundred-Acre Wood – so beautiful, in fact, that it made Winnie the Pooh feel like celebrating. 'All I need is a pot of honey,' said Pooh –"

"Honey!" Jamie exclaimed. "I love honey."

"I know, baby. You know what else Pooh needed?"

"Umm… friends?"

"That's right… 'and friends to share it with…'"

Peter watched Jamie, completely engrossed with the story her mum was telling her, even though Peter was sure she would have heard this particular story more than once. Gradually, though, sleep determined to overtake Jamie. She fought hard against it, trying desperately to keep her eyes open, but it was no use.

Peter didn't tell Carla that Jamie was asleep. He didn't want her to stop the story, to stop talking in those animated yet soothing tones. He felt he could listen to her talk all night, the rest of his life even. He knew neither were a possibility, so he settled for listening until the end of the story.

"…Pooh gathered all their friends together again. 'Party time at last!' he announced. 'I love parties!' cried Roo. 'Are we celebrating finding Eeyore's tail?' 'Yes,' replied Pooh. 'That…and honey.' 'And friendship,' added Eeyore, remembering how very hard everyone had tried to help him that day. 'Friendship most of all.' The end."

Peter picked up the phone and switched off the speaker.

"Hey, thank you for that. She's fast asleep."

"Good, I was glad to help." An awkward silence. "Well then, I, umm… I better go."

"Yeah," Peter was reluctant to let Carla go; he desperately wanted her to stay on the line, but couldn't think of a believable pretext. "Thanks again for that."

"Any time."

"Okay…"

"Bye then."

"Bye."

After he'd hung up the phone, Peter sat by Jamie's bedside and watched her as she slept. She was so like her mother; the same hair, the same nose, an early hint of the same razor-sharp cheekbones.

He sighed at the thoughts these observations raised in his mind; the feelings in his heart. "Bury them deep, you old fool," was the only advice he could give himself.

Leaning over Jamie's bed, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, and gently stroked her hair.

"Goodnight precious."

As he stood by the door, he gazed one last time at his sleeping daughter, the glow of the night light softly illuminating her features, before turning and walking out, back to his reality, leaving the dream behind.

* * *

_Note: the Winnie the Pooh readings are from the book "Party in the Wood" by Lisa Ann Marsoli._


	22. Chapter 22: Family ties

**Chapter 22: Family ties**

Peter stared at Toyah; shock, disbelief, disgust; he could almost taste it in his mouth. He could see her lips moving, he knew she was talking, but he couldn't hear what she was saying over the buzzing that had begun sounding in his ears the moment her confession had passed her lips.

His head began spinning; he reached out for something to hold onto, anything to stop him from falling; from vomiting; from curling up on the ground and crying like a baby.

He staggered out of the room, through the bar; he crashed through the front doors of the Rovers and onto the street. He didn't see the curious looks people were giving him; the concerned inquiries into his wellbeing. He saw and heard nothing.

He stumbled blindly down Coronation Street; he didn't know where he was going. Or did he? His feet were powered by an unseen force; driven by…what? Instinct. His feet were taking him to where his heart was leading him, to a place he knew he would find comfort.

* * *

Carla sat at her dining table, her laptop open to a spreadsheet loaded with figures, both black and red, while various papers were scattered over the table. She sighed as she surveyed the mess. Carla knew she'd let things slide on the business front ever since Aidan; for a while she had doubted she could ever face Underworld again. But she knew how much Aidan had loved that place; how much hard work he had put in, the sacrifices he had made.

Now it was her time to make some sacrifices. With fashion show deadlines looming, Carla was determined to put in the hours, to do the work of two people, to make Aidan's dream a reality.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Carla jumped, startled at the sudden and somewhat aggressive banging on her front door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Carla rose from her seat and moved warily towards the door.

"Who is it?"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"I said, who is it?"

"It's me."

That voice; Carla recognised it immediately. But there was something in the tone that she'd never heard before, something that scared her. Even so, she rushed to open the door; she would always open the door for him.

"Peter?"

Peter stood on Carla's threshold, his face stained with tears, both old and new, and contorted with pain and anguish.

"Carla," his voice broke; he couldn't say another word. All he could do was step into Carla's open arms. She wrapped her arms around him, embracing him, holding him tight as he collapsed on her shoulder, sobbing as if his world was ending.

* * *

"Here you go," Carla handed Peter a cup of steaming tea.

"Thanks," Peter was calm now that the first rush of emotion had released its grip on his body and his heart. "I'm sorry about before, I, umm…"

"It's okay. The amount of times I've cried on your shoulder."

"You haven't asked me what happened?"

"In your own time. I assume that's why you came here?"

"I don't know why I came here. I just… I just did."

Peter dropped his head; silence descended over the room. Carla simply waited. She knew Peter would speak when he was ready.

"Toyah and I split up."

"Oh…" suddenly Carla began to wonder about Peter's motives.

"I know what you're thinking. It's not like that. It's, umm… oh god."

"Peter, you don't have to tell me. I can call someone if you want? Your dad? Toyah?"

"No. Not Toyah. Never Toyah. I only want to talk to you."

"Okay."

"It's Susie."

"Is she okay? She's not ill, is she?"

"She's not mine. She's not my daughter. I'm not her dad."

"I don't… Peter, I don't understand."

"_My_ baby, you know, the one the surrogate was carrying?"

"Yeah?"

"It died. She had a miscarriage."

"Oh, Peter, I'm so sorry. But –"

"Where did Susie come from? Is that what you were gonna ask?"

"Well, yeah."

"Toyah… I still can't believe someone would stoop so low. Toyah made a deal with someone; someone who didn't want to keep their baby, was gonna give it up or have an abortion, I don't know. They agreed to give Toyah their baby and then Toyah would tell everyone, including me, that it was the surrogate's baby. That it was my baby."

Carla struggled to understand what Peter was telling her, so she asked the obvious question.

"Who?"

"Eva."

"Eva? Eva was pregnant?"

"They were in it together, Toyah and Eva. They were planning it for months, this big lie."

"I don't –"

"There's more," Peter looked Carla in the eye. Even after the massive bombshell Peter had just dropped, Carla knew instinctively that the biggest shock was about to come.

"Oh, god, there's more?"

"Susie's dad. Her real dad, Carla. It's Aidan. Aidan was Susie's father."

"Aidan?" Carla struggled to take it in; to comprehend what Peter's revelation meant. "Did he know?"

"I don't know, I don't know anything anymore."

"He couldn't have known. If he'd known, he'd never… he'd still be here."

Peter reached out to stroke Carla's cheek; she instinctively leaned into him.

"I'm sorry, Carla."

"Don't, it's not you, it's them, those evil…"

Once again, silence, as the pair struggled to come to terms with everything they'd learned.

"Where's Jamie?" Peter suddenly noticed his daughter's absence from the flat.

"Oh, umm, Simon took her to the park."

"Right. Oh, god, Carla. What am I gonna tell Simon? And Jamie?"

"The truth, darlin'. I'll help you, okay? It'll be okay."

"How? How will anything ever be okay again?"

"Listen, Peter, are you alright on your own here for a bit?"

"Why?" Peter couldn't believe that Carla was leaving him at a time like this. "Where are you going?"

"I have to tell Johnny. I won't be long."

"You gonna tell him the good news, then, that he's a grandfather? Every cloud, ey?"

Carla was apprehensive; she didn't want to leave Peter in this state, but she wanted to break the news to Johnny before he heard it through gossip.

"Go," Peter noticed Carla's hesitation. "I'll be fine."

"And you'll wait here for me?"

"Yeah. Sure."

* * *

"What do you want?" Johnny stood blocking the door to his flat, staring down his estranged daughter.

"I need to talk to you," Carla pleaded. "Can I come in?"

"No."

"Oh. Right. Listen, I know you blame me –"

"You bet I do."

"Can we please just put that to one side, just for now. I need to tell you something."

"Go on."

"Not on the doorstep."

"You don't tell me what to do in my own home. Either you tell me what you've got to say right now, or you do one. Your choice."

"Johnny, please, this is important –"

Johnny started to close the door.

"No, Johnny, please."

"You had your chance."

"Johnny! It's Susie! Susie Barlow. She's Aidan's. Aidan's daughter."

"What?"

Carla spun around, horrified to see Simon and Jamie returning from the park.

"Oh, god, Si…"

"What did you say about Susie?"

"I think you should talk to your dad about this."

"Carla, what you just said? Is it true?"

"I'm sorry."

This was all the confirmation that Simon needed; he turned and ran.

"Si!"

Too late; Simon had disappeared into the stairwell.

"What do you mean?" Johnny was still there. "How can Aidan be Susie's father?"

"I have to get Jamie home," Carla hurried to where Jamie had been left by Simon and took hold of her hand. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Carla! You can't drop something like that and then run away without an explanation."

"Talk to Eva," as Carla led Jamie away.

* * *

"Peter?"

But the flat was silent.

"Peter? Are you here?"

A quick search of the flat confirmed that Peter had gone.

"Mummy?"

Carla looked down at her daughter. She knew she would have to try and explain to Jamie what had happened. But how do you explain to a four-year old that the baby they thought was their sister was in fact their cousin? Carla sighed and prayed for divine inspiration.

"Sit down, sweetheart, I need to talk to you about something."

* * *

Peter stormed through the swinging doors of The Flying Horse and made a beeline for the bar; he was on a mission and he was not wasting any time.

"Hey, Peter, long time. How's the Rovers?"

"Pint and a whisky please."

"I don't think that's a good idea, mate."

"What is this? The booze police? Are you gonna serve me or am I taking my custom to the Weathy Arms?"

The barman studied Peter's face, saw his determination, and gave in.

"Fine. Your funeral."

The barman pulled the pint and poured the whisky, placing both in front of Peter, before taking his money and leaving him to it.

Peter stared down at the drinks beckoning him so seductively; he desperately wanted to down them both, one after the other. But he knew from bitter experience it wouldn't stop there. It never did. He reached out and grasped the pint glass in his hand.

* * *

"Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, darling?"

Jamie shook her head; she couldn't quite get her developing brain around what her mum had just revealed.

"That's okay, baby, I don't really understand it either."

"Mummy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I call daddy?"

* * *

Peter's phone beeped; he'd let the call go to voicemail. He didn't want Carla to know where he was, to know how weak he had been. Still, he listened to the message instantly; he craved her voice more than he craved the two drinks that were still sat on the bar in front of him, untouched.

"Daddy?" Peter's heart melted instantly on hearing his daughter's voice. "It's Jamie. Umm, mummy told me 'bout baby Susie and I thought you might be sad 'cause you don't get to live with her any more. But if you get lonely you can come live with me and mummy. And then you won't be sad. I love you daddy. Mummy loves you too. And Snowy. Bye daddy!"

Peter smiled to himself, even as the tears slipped down his cheeks. He looked down at the beaded bracelet adorning his left wrist that Jamie had made for him. He wore it every day as a reminder of how lucky he felt to have been given this second chance at being her father. He daren't hope for a third.

As devastating as it was to have Susie wrenched from him, he knew his life was still worth living because of Jamie. And because of Simon. And because maybe, just maybe, there was a lingering hope for something else.

* * *

Toyah fidgeted nervously behind the bar of the Rovers. She served customers with no care or attention; she would most likely have failed to remember the names of anyone she served that day. Her eyes were on one person only: Carla.

As soon as Carla had walked into the bar a few minutes earlier, Toyah had known immediately that Peter had told her everything. Carla had refused to speak to Toyah; she wanted to see Eva, and Eva only. She did, however, feign to shoot at Toyah the filthiest of death stares that she could muster, and boy could Carla do a powerful death stare. Even so, Toyah was desperate to know how Peter was, to know that he was okay, to know most of all that he wasn't drinking.

Toyah tentatively approached Carla where she was stood waiting on the other side of the bar.

"Carla, I –"

"She says she'll see you," Leanne returned from the back room with the news Carla was waiting for.

As Carla walked through the bar on her way to the residence, Toyah grabbed onto her last chance to find out… whatever there was to find out.

"Carla," Toyah touched Carla's arm, a gesture that Carla quickly shook off. "How is he? How's Peter?"

"Don't you dare ask about Peter," Carla spat at Toyah. "Where was your concern all those months you were lying to him?"

"You don't understand. You've got Jamie. I just wanted what you had, a child, a family."

"Yeah, well, I wanted my brother not to kill himself. But we don't always get what we want, do we?"

Carla didn't wait for an answer; she turned and followed Leanne who was waiting rather impatiently for Carla to come with her.

Toyah blinked back the tears; she had to hold it together, she couldn't afford to go to pieces so publicly. She couldn't understand how she'd let herself get into this mess, how she'd let everything get so out of control. It was like she had been possessed; her obsession with having a baby had taken over her life and, ultimately, had destroyed her life. Now she was left with nothing. No baby, no partner, no future.

Then she saw him and her heart almost stopped. She breathed a sigh of relief; he didn't look drunk. That had been her worst fear; that he would revert to type and find consolation in the bottle. That relief soon turned to fear and trepidation; Peter wasn't drunk, but he was angry. Very angry. And not in the mood to talk to the woman he suddenly despised above all others.

"Peter, we need to talk."

"I think you've said more than enough."

"Please, Peter."

"I'm here to pack my things, that's it. After that, I don't care if I never see your miserable face again."

"But," Toyah was desperate to find any reason to keep Peter in her life. "What about this place? We worked so hard to get here."

"I've put the Rovers on the market."

"What?"

"I've just come from the estate agent's. They'll be round tomorrow for an appraisal."

"Peter, no! You can't do this!"

"Watch me."

Peter pushed past Leanne, who had just returned to the bar, and stalked upstairs.

"What did he say?" Leanne looked at Toyah in confusion.

"Don't," as the tears began to fall down Toyah's cheeks. "What have I done, Lee? I've ruined everything."

* * *

"I suppose you've come to have a go at me as well?" Eva was understandably defensive with Carla.

"No, not at all," Carla smiled reassuringly at Eva. "I take it Johnny's paid you a visit?"

"Yeah. Angry is an understatement."

"It's his default since Aidan… Don't worry, it's not just you he's angry with."

"You too?"

"Yeah."

For a moment, the two women simply looked at each other. They'd never been close before, but suddenly, devastatingly, they were united not just by a common tragedy, but by a baby girl who, in her short existence, had already caused so much joy and pain.

"Why are you here, Carla?"

"Because my brother killed himself. And if he did it without knowing about his daughter… I don't know what to think, Eva. Please tell me he knew."

"I told him, months ago, that I was pregnant. But he didn't believe me, he hated me back then."

"He never hated you, Eva. Not really."

"You're just saying that."

"Well, he defended you when I called you a vindictive cow. If that's not love…"

Eva couldn't help but laugh; Carla joined her.

"No, really, he told me he still loved you, Eva. Even after everything."

The tears began to slip down Eva's cheeks.

"I wish I'd known. I wish I'd fought harder. Maybe then… I dunno, maybe he'd still be here."

"You can't think like that. You can't torture yourself with what ifs and maybes. Trust me, nothing good will come of it."

"So, what do I do?"

"You love and you cherish his daughter. That's what you do. And, when she's old enough, you tell her about him. About what he was like, what a good man he was."

"He was," Eva sobbed. "So good. So beautiful. He was everything."

* * *

Peter came down the stairs of the Rovers for what he believed was the last time, the last of his packed bags in his hands. He looked around him, thinking back to all the plans he and Toyah had for this place, for their future together, their family. It was all gone now, all that remained was a bittersweet memory.

"Pull yourself together," Peter sighed to himself.

He pushed open the door of the back room, prepared to clear from it all traces of his existence, but was shocked by the sight that met him.

Susie, that perfectly formed beautiful baby he had, until hours earlier, worshipped as his own, was being held in a loving embrace by the woman he had once, long ago, also worshipped as his own.

Carla looked up as Peter entered the room.

"Hi."

"Hey."

"Where did you get to? We came home and you were gone."

"Sorry, I needed to clear my head."

"And did you?"

"Jamie's message helped. A lot."

"Yeah, well, she loves her daddy."

Peter smiled and sat down on the sofa next to Carla.

"Where's Eva?"

"Upstairs having a bath. She looked shattered, so I offered to look after this one while she had a little break."

"Right." Peter stroked Susie's head gently. "I'm sorry, I…"

"It's okay, Peter. You're allowed to miss her."

"This morning she was my daughter. Now she's nothing to me, I'm nothing to her."

"I'm so sorry."

"But look at you, you've got yourself a niece. How does it feel, Aunty Carla?"

Carla couldn't help but smile at 'Aunty Carla'. The last time she'd been an aunty like this was when Ryan was a baby. She remembered how she and Paul would look after him and dote on him. It was even more special for her now with Susie, because Susie was the daughter of her own brother.

"Honestly?"

"Please."

"Knowing that Aidan lives on in this one, it means everything. I'm sorry, I hate that you had to lose so much in the process, but… she's part of Aidan, you know."

"I understand. I just… What am I meant to do now, Carla? I don't know what to do."

* * *

"Why don't you try talking to him? Before he leaves."

Toyah considered Leanne's advice, but she was scared; she wanted to talk to Peter, to try and reason with him, but she had hurt him so badly, she didn't know if he could ever bear to look at her again, let alone have a civil conversation with her.

"I don't know, Lee, he was so angry."

"You're just gonna give up on him, are you? After everything you two went through to be together?"

"We did, didn't we? Okay, wish me luck."

With a nervous smile at her sister, Toyah made her way through the back of the bar and into the residence. She noticed Peter's bags at the foot of the staircase; he must be in the back room. She gently pushed open the door of the back room, but was horrified at the sight that met her.

Carla was holding Susie, her precious Susie. Peter was sat close by her, his hands were on Carla's face, his lips were on her lips. This was the legendary Carla and Peter passion she had heard so much about being played out in glorious technicolour right before her eyes.

She felt sick, she had to get out of there. Rushing back into the hallway, she sank back against the wall, heartbroken at what she'd just witnessed. Less than a day and he'd moved on with her. How could he?


	23. Chapter 23: New dawn

**Chapter 23: New dawn**

Jamie ran down the cobbles as fast as her little legs would carry her.

"Jamie!" Carla lagged behind her daughter, her fitness levels having not quite returned to pre-kidney failure standard.

Jamie burst in through the door of the Rovers and scanned the room. Toyah. Toyah could help her.

"Toyah!"

Toyah rushed around the bar and crouched down in front of Jamie.

"Hi sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"I want daddy!"

"You know, your daddy doesn't live here anymore. Can I –"

"Jamie!" Carla panted as she finally caught up with her daughter. "Do not run off like that!"

"Go away! I hate you! I want daddy!"

"Did you want to come out back and I'll call your dad?"

"You stay out of it!" Carla wished Toyah would just disappear. "Jamie, you come with me now."

"Jamie," Toyah decided it was time to play dirty. "Your dad will probably be next door, at your granddad's house."

Jamie wasted no time; she turned and ran to the door.

Carla had so many things she wanted to say to Toyah in that moment, but she had to make do with the filthiest look she could muster before once again giving chase to her daughter. As Carla slammed the pub door behind her, Toyah couldn't help but smirk; she had enjoyed watching Carla being shown up as a not-so-perfect mother after all.

Carla emerged from the Rovers to see Jamie pounding on the front door of No. 1. With any luck, no one would be home and she could get Jamie back to the flat without her spilling the beans. She wasn't ready for the arguments she knew would be coming her way if Jamie revealed what she knew. But, for now, all she could do was stand by her daughter's side and wait.

The door opened; Carla's heart sank.

"Granddad!"

"Hi Carla, Jamie. What –?"

"Daddy! Daddy!" Jamie pushed past Ken and went in search of her daddy.

"Carla?"

"Don't ask. Can I?"

"Yes, of course, come in."

* * *

Peter was sat in an armchair in his father's old-fashioned living room when he heard his daughter yelling for him. Immediately he rose to his feet in anticipation; then Jamie burst through the doors, her search finally over.

"Daddy!" Jamie ran up to Peter and almost jumped into his waiting arms, tears streaming down her face.

"Sweetheart," for a moment Peter held his daughter tight before questioning her. "What's the matter? Hey?"

"Mummy," was all Jamie could get out before dissolving once more into sobs.

"Has something happened to mummy?"

Jamie shook her head.

"Then what…?" Peter looked up as Ken and Carla entered the room.

"Carla, what's going on?"

"It's nothing. It's just a tantrum."

"Mummy gonna take me away," Jamie blurted out. "I don't wanna go, daddy."

Peter stared at Carla, a suddenly defensive and questioning look on his face.

"Well? What's she talking about?"

"This isn't how I wanted to tell you."

"Carla, just spit it out, please."

Carla hesitated as long as she could; she knew her news was not going to be received well. "We're moving back to Devon."

"No!" Peter's reaction was instant and definite. "No way are you taking her away again."

"It's happening, Peter. Get used to it."

"Carla," Ken, always the voice of reason, now tried to reason with his ex-daughter-in-law. "Is that really the best thing for Jamie? To be taken away from her family?"

"What's this?" Simon now entered the fray, having heard a commotion from where he had been studying in his bedroom. "You can't move away."

"Si, this is none of your business."

"But it is when you're trying to take my sister away," Simon was getting worked up now. "It's cruel, you know, after everything with Susie."

"Si, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Carla. Just don't go!"

"Si," Peter, despite his insides churning with almost overwhelming emotion, spoke calmly to his son. "Take Jamie upstairs will you."

"No, daddy," Jamie didn't want to go.

"Sweetheart, Si's gonna take you upstairs to wash your face, okay? Clean up those tears. Can you do that for your dad?"

Jamie studied her dad's face for a few moments before nodding her agreement.

"Good girl," Peter kissed her softly before placing her back on her feet. "Please, Si."

"Fine."

Simon took Jamie's hand in his and led her to the staircase as instructed.

"Dad?" Peter turned to Ken.

"Yes?" Ken was oblivious to Peter's hint.

"Do you mind?"

"Oh," Ken finally understood. "I should get started on dinner. I'll, umm…"

"Thanks, dad."

As soon as Ken was out of earshot, Peter turned to Carla, determined to make sense of her sudden and, in his opinion, irrational decision.

"Is this because of what happened between us?"

"Of course not."

"Because, Carla, I thought I explained that it was too soon. You know, it was the same day that I split up with Toyah."

"I know that –"

"And you know I'm a complete mess at the moment. A wreck. I really am. You and me right now would be a terrible idea. I'm just not in the right head space for anything like that. I mean, it's not like I didn't enjoy –"

"Peter! Stop talking! For one minute, just…"

Peter stopped and stared at Carla.

"Let's get one thing straight. I do not make life-changing decisions because of one stupid kiss. Okay? It was a mistake. I know that. Now, I know you're upset, that this has been a bit of a shock –."

"Just a bit," Peter couldn't help interjecting.

"Why don't we sit down and talk about it properly once everyone's calmed down. Okay?"

"I'm not gonna change my mind."

"Peter."

"Fine. Don't think this is the end of the matter."

"Understood."

* * *

"I can't let them leave, dad, I just can't."

Ken looked with pity at his son who, after so recently having lost one daughter, was faced with the prospect of losing another.

"Why don't you meet with Carla, like she suggested, and talk things through rationally. Calmly."

"No, she'll just fob me off again. I need to take action before she does. I need to see a lawyer."

"Surely you can work this out between the two of you?"

"You heard her, dad, she's already made up her mind."

"Talk to her, Peter. She's not an unreasonable person."

"She is when she's trying to take my daughter from me."

"She's just lost her brother in traumatic circumstances. She's not thinking straight, she's making rash decisions. Talk to her, find out why she's doing this."

"No! I need to stop her!"

Peter paced the living room floor, plans quickly turning over in his mind. Ken watched his son despondently, fearful that he might lash out in his desperation to keep his daughter in his life and end up making everything so much worse.

"Don't look at me like that, dad. I'm not like you, I'm willing to fight for my children."

Ken ignored this censure of his past parenting mistakes; it wasn't the first time he'd heard it from Peter's lips, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

"I know. And I'm proud of you for that. But Peter," Ken reached out and placed a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "Don't burn your bridges. You and Carla will be that girl's parents for the rest of her life. Don't make things any harder than they have to be."

* * *

Carla and Jamie sat at the dinner table in silence. Jamie was refusing to eat her dinner; refusing to even speak with her mother. She simply sat there, arms folded, glaring at Carla.

"Are you going to eat anything?"

Still Jamie sat in silence and glared.

"No? Well, you may as well go to bed then. Go on, get out of here."

With a final dirty look at her mum, Jamie stood and violently pushed her chair away from the table, almost causing it to tip on its side, before storming out of the room.

Carla sighed; this was harder than she'd anticipated. Persuading Jamie to move away from Devon in the first place had been a hard enough task, but persuading her to move back to Devon was proving nigh on impossible. She hadn't bargained on the strong bond that had grown between father and daughter; she was scared that, if she forced the matter, it would serve only to break the precious bond that existed between mother and daughter.

* * *

Carla knocked gently on Jamie's bedroom door, slightly ajar as it always was during the night.

"Can I come in?" Carla spoke softly.

"Yes," Jamie's almost instant affirmative reply melted Carla's heart.

Carla entered her daughter's bedroom, lit only by the starry night night-light that projected constellations across her bedroom walls and ceiling. She approached the bed, where Jamie was curled up under her duvet, her hair curling gently where her head lay against the pillow. Clutched close to Jamie's chest was her old well-worn and well-loved teddy. Snowy, as always, was asleep at the foot of Jamie's bed.

Carla sat down on the edge of the bed, leaned down and gently kissed Jamie's forehead.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You did."

"I know," Carla stroked Jamie's hair as she spoke. "I should've talked to you about it properly, not just told you what was happening."

"Please don't make me go back, mummy."

"But don't you want to see all your old friends? And move back to our old house? Your old bedroom? You know how much you love that bedroom. And then we can go to the beach every day."

"Can daddy come with us? And Si? And Granddad Ken? And Aunty Chelle?"

"No, baby, they live here."

"Then I wanna live here too."

"But I can't. It's too hard." Carla instantly regretted revealing her inner struggles to Jamie; she was meant to be the adult, the parent, the one in control. She shouldn't be offloading her troubles onto her daughter.

Carla's confession opened the floodgates and, even though she desperately tried to stop them, the tears started to fall from her eyes and splash down her cheeks. Jamie saw her mum's tears and instinctively wanted to comfort her. She sat up in bed and flung herself at her mum, wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her.

"Don't cry, mummy. Don't be sad."

Carla clung to her daughter, holding her tight.

"I love you so much, baby. So much."

"I love you, mummy."

* * *

Carla sat by her daughter's bedside long after she had fallen asleep. She watched Jamie as she lay there so peacefully, her arms wrapped lovingly around teddy, the stars from the night-light moving softly across her face, creating an atmosphere of pure ethereal magic.

The doorbell rang. Carla looked at her watch; it was a little late for callers.

* * *

"Oh, it's you."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Carla stood aside to let Peter in.

"Where's Jamie?"

"Asleep."

"Right."

"So if you could keep your voice down."

"What?" Peter was immediately on edge, seeing ulterior motives in every look and every word. "You think I've come here for an argument or summat?"

"Yeah, I think that's exactly why you're here. To kick off at us moving back home."

"_This_ is her home."

"For now."

"Carla, you're forgetting that Jamie doesn't want to go."

"Well, she didn't want to move here either, but she got used to it. Just like she'll get used to being back home."

"How many times, her home is here."

"Her home is wherever I am."

"Well, my lawyer would disagree with you."

"Your what? You've seen a lawyer?"

"Of course I have. What did you expect, Carla? That I would let you move my daughter to the other side of the country? Just like that? You honestly think I'd be happy seeing her for what? A weekend here and there? Every second Christmas?"

"There's phone calls. Facetime. It won't be like before. You've got a relationship with her now."

"Yes. One that I want to keep."

"And I will do everything in my power to make sure you do."

Peter looked at Carla; he wondered why she was doing this, wondered what her reaction would be if…

"I really didn't want to do this," Peter played his final hand.

"Do what?"

"How do you think a family court judge would react if they were to find out what happened to Jamie a few weeks ago?"

"Peter, I have no idea –"

"Playing with knives? Not exactly a safe environment for a child."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Then you offload her on me so you can, what? Drink yourself senseless?"

Carla couldn't believe what she was hearing; that Peter was threatening to expose her moments of weakness to the world.

"Are you taking me to court?"

"I'm just letting you know that I will do whatever it takes to keep Jamie where she belongs."

"What exactly is it that you want, Peter? Full custody?"

"If that's what it takes to stop you taking her away from me."

"And you're prepared to stand up in court and give testimony that, what? I'm an unfit mother?"

"I don't want to, Carla, it's you that's forcing me to do this."

"Because I was grieving for my brother. You'd use that against me?"

"If I have to. Yes."

Carla couldn't help it; the tears started to fall yet again. Surely one person couldn't cry this many tears?

"How could you do this to me, Peter?"

"Oh, Carla, no. Don't cry."

"Why can't you just let me go."

"Because I don't understand why you're going. Talk to me, Carla. Tell me what's really going on."

"There's nothing –"

Peter laughed.

"What?"

"It's obvious you're running away."

"I'm not."

"Carla, it's me you're talking to."

"Okay. Maybe I am. Why shouldn't I? What's left for me here?"

"There's plenty –"

"Like what? Johnny hates me. Kate hates me. Aidan's gone."

"I know it's hard –"

"Give me one reason, Peter. One single reason to stay."

Peter just looked at her; he wanted to speak, to tell her how he felt, but there was too much at stake.

"Thought so," Carla turned away from Peter, terrified that he would see the truth in her eyes. "Show yourself out."

Carla hurried towards her bedroom; she wanted desperately to reach the safety of her own bed so she could cry with abandon.

"Me. There's your reason, Carla. Stay for me."

Carla slowly turned on the spot and carefully studied Peter's face for the meaning behind his words. But she no longer trusted her own judgement, and she couldn't take the risk of being wrong.

"I already said I'm not going to stand in the way of your relationship with Jamie."

"That's not what I meant."

"Stop talking in riddles, Peter. I can't –"

Carla didn't finish her sentence; Peter decided it was time to act. He strode over to her, cradled her face in his hands and kissed her. If this kiss didn't convince her to stay, then nothing would.

It did.

Carla responded to Peter's kiss; as his lips parted, so did hers; as his tongue entered her mouth, she playfully flicked her tongue around his, seeking entrance to his mouth. As she leaned her head back, exposing the delicate creamy white skin of her neck, Peter greedily kissed and licked and sucked along Carla's jawline, down her neck, and in a long line down her collarbone.

Suddenly, Carla pushed Peter away; she lowered her head and put her hand up to his lips to stop his kisses.

"Hang on a minute," Carla scrutinised Peter's face. "I thought you said you and me was a mistake? That it was too soon, you were too messed up."

"I was wrong. About the mistake part anyway. I'm not gonna lie, I am still a mess. But then I always have been. Yet you, Carla Connor, you still loved me, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Did?"

"Do."

Peter smiled; he didn't mind being a complete train wreck of a man if he had the love of a woman like Carla.

"I love you."

Carla grabbed onto the back of Peter's head with both hands and pulled his face towards hers; she kissed him again with greater passion, greater hunger.

Peter wrapped his arms around Carla's body; one hand roamed freely over her back, skimming up her spine, her neck, raking through her hair; the other hand he reached down to gently squeeze one of her arse cheeks.

Moving both hands to her bottom, Peter lifted Carla into the air. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his body and her arms around his neck. He walked them both over to the sofa and lay her down on her back. She didn't release her grip on his waist and drew him down on top of her, wanting to feel the weight of his body on her.

Carla could feel more than Peter's weight bearing down on her; she could feel the hardness of his erection desperately trying to escape the confines of his jeans. As Peter reignited their fiery kisses, Carla reached down to unbuckle his belt; she slipped his jeans button through the buttonhole and pulled his zip down. Using her feet now, she tucked her toes into the top of his loosened jeans and pushed them down over his arse and down his legs.

She looked down and saw his cock, hard and erect, ready for her. She couldn't help but smile; she looked back up at Peter's face and grinned; they'd waited so long for this moment, years in fact. Neither could quite believe it, but when they kissed, when they touched, they knew it was real, that it was finally happening.

Carla scrambled to quickly rid herself of her own jeans, wanting to do more than see Peter's cock, she wanted to feel it. As she kicked her jeans off onto the ground, Peter once again sunk his body down onto hers. And then she could feel it, his skin against her skin, the heat of his hard cock against the heat and wetness of her pussy. He slid his cock along her skin, over the opening to her vagina, up against her bottom and back down to glide over her clit, engorged and throbbing with desire.

As he moved his hips back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm, Peter pushed the fabric of Carla's top up over her breasts, planting a series of soft, wet kisses on her tummy, up her abdomen and on her breasts. Carla pulled her top up over her head and tossed it onto the growing pile of clothes on her living room floor. Her bra and his t-shirt followed shortly after, leaving them naked, their bare skin pressed together in a heady amalgam of flesh and sweat.

"Let's go to bed."

With Carla's legs wrapped tightly around his waist and her arms around his neck, Peter raised himself up and off the sofa. Peter's arms were around Carla's body, under her bottom, supporting her as he carried her towards the bedroom, their hips grinding into each other, his cock against her fleshy folds.

Desperate to feel him inside of her for the first time in years, Carla leveraged herself slightly off Peter's body and, using one hand to guide him, sank back into him, onto him, allowing his cock to penetrate deep inside her vagina.

Peter gasped as he felt himself enter Carla; he almost lost his grip on her but managed to hold on. He pushed her up against a wall for support as he held his position inside her, moving his hips in a side-to-side motion, thrilling at the feel of her walls contracting around his cock.

Having regained his balance and his composure, he backed her away from the wall and walked again towards the bedroom. Carla moved her hips back and forth over Peter's cock, allowing him to slide in and out of her, all the while their lips were as if they were glued to the other's lips, tongue to the other's tongue.

And so they disappeared into Carla's bedroom, shutting the door on the world, their thoughts only of rediscovering each other's bodies for as long as the night lasted.

* * *

Jamie woke early the next morning; she always did. She loved nothing better than to crawl into her mum's bed in the early hours of the morning and cuddle up close to her for those few hours while the sun rose and before the day would really begin.

This morning was no different.

Jamie padded barefoot from her bedroom and into her mum's; she climbed up on the ottoman at the base of the bed – it was a little lower than the bed – and then onto the bed proper. It was only then that she noticed something was different; her mum was not alone.

"Daddy!" Jamie screamed as she launched herself at him.

Startled into a wakefulness that neither were prepared for, Carla and Peter were for a few moments disorientated, until it sunk in that their daughter had arrived for morning cuddles.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Peter kissed Jamie affectionately on the cheek.

Carla reached out to stroke Jamie's hair, "Morning, baby."

"Did you and mummy have a sleepover?"

"We sure did."

"Did you have fun?"

Peter looked at Carla, a cheeky grin on his face.

"I dunno, did we?"

"Yes, darlin'," Carla assured Jamie. "We had lots of fun."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, my love."

"Are you going to live with us?"

"I don't know. Would you like me to?"

Jamie nodded enthusiastically.

"And what about mummy?" Peter turned to Carla, his heart suddenly beating hard and fast; Carla's answer right now would determine his whole future.

"Yes."

"Yay!" Jamie excitedly bounced up and down on the bed at the prospect of her parents living together for the first time in her life.

"Are you sure?"

Carla didn't answer in words; a smile and a kiss was enough to convince Peter that she wanted him there; that she wanted them to be a family at long last.


	24. Chapter 24: Dancing in the street

**Chapter 24: Dancing in the street**

"I don't see why I can't move in here with you guys."

Peter sighed; this wasn't the first time Peter had heard this particular complaint from his son.

"I told you before, Si, there's not enough room. It's only a two-bedroom flat."

"So… what? I'm meant to stay on me own with granddad?"

The lift doors opened; father and son both stepped into the hallway and walked towards what was now Peter's home with Carla and Jamie.

"It won't be for much longer, I promise ya. As soon as the money from the sale of the Rovers comes through, we're gonna start looking for a bigger place. For all of us to live in together. As a family."

"Yeah, well, it better be soon, you deffo need another man in the house."

"What does that mean?" Peter playfully tousled Simon's hair. "Hey?"

Simon nodded to the package Peter was carrying.

"Umm, dad, you've been sent out to buy pastries and fruit for breakfast. Not very manly, is it?"

"If it's what my girls want."

"You're a lost cause."

Peter laughed. "I hope so."

As the pair reached the front door of the flat, they exchanged puzzled looks at the noises emanating from within.

"What on earth…?"

Peter opened the door to the sound of the radio blaring out the Motown classic "Dancing in the street"; Carla and Jamie were holding onto each other's hands, moving in time to the music, swinging each other about and laughing hysterically in-between singing along to the music.

"It doesn't matter what you wear," mother and daughter sang raucously in unison. "Just as long as you are there. So come on, every guy grab a girl, everywhere around the world."

"Si!" Jamie spotted her brother at the door and ran over to him.

"…There'll be dancing, they're dancing in the street…"

"Come dance with me, Si."

Simon hesitated when Jamie tried to drag him onto the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room, but Peter gave him a gentle prod.

"Go on, dance with your sister."

Simon shook his head and rolled his eyes, feigning embarrassment. Nevertheless, he smiled as Jamie took him by the hand, and he succeeded in moving his body about in a way that might be considered dancing.

Peter couldn't help but smile at the sight of his children dancing so joyously together, enjoying their new family setup.

Carla sidled up to him; she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a soft, sensuous kiss.

"Dance with me, Mister Barlow."

Peter placed his hands around Carla's waist and pulled her body close to his; he rocked her gently from side to side in time to the music, leaning down to kiss her neck, her cheek, her lips.

"All we need is music," Simon and Jamie were almost screaming the lyrics in their excitement; Carla and Peter turned to watch them with amused smiles. "Sweet music, there'll be music every – everywhere."

Carla rested her cheek on Peter's shoulder in blissful contentment; he kissed her hair gently and counted his blessings, all three of them.

* * *

"And you still have no idea who the buyer is?"

The newly reunited family were all sat at the dining table enjoying the pastries and fruit Peter had brought home for breakfast.

"None at all. It was a condition of the sale that they remain anonymous until we exchanged contracts."

"Which is this morning."

"Yeah," Peter sighed as he thought back over the protracted fight between himself and Toyah over the future of the Rovers ever since their relationship had ended. "You know what, Carla, I can't wait to get shot of that place. Finally get to move on from that mess."

"Not long now, ey?" Carla reached out and placed her hand gently over Peter's.

"I just wish I could avoid having to see the three wicked sisters," Peter grimaced at the thought.

"Why don't I come with you?"

"I can do this on my own, you know."

"I know, I know. I'd just be there, you know, in case one of them steps out of line. Then I'll fix 'em with me death stare and –" Carla caught the look on Peter's face and realised the extent of his worry over the morning's meeting. "Or I could just be there to hold your hand?"

Carla reached out and stroked Peter's cheek.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good," Carla stood and, wrapping her arms around Peter's neck, placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "More coffee?"

* * *

Walking into the Rovers two hours later felt like entering enemy territory for Peter and Carla. True to her word, Carla held Peter's hand, which only served to increase the animosity towards the couple.

"What's she here for?" Leanne, spiteful as ever, spat her venom on seeing Carla.

"She? Who's she?" Peter challenged his ex-wife. "If you mean Carla, she is here to support me. You know, as my partner."

Leanne simply rolled her eyes and walked away, while Peter turned to Toyah. "Shall we go through the paperwork while we wait on the buyer?"

"Yeah, of course."

Peter sat down in one of the Rovers booths; Toyah went to follow him, but paused first to speak to Carla.

"You do know," Toyah spoke low so that only Carla could hear. "That you're just a rebound for Peter?"

"Is that so? Because Peter told me that every woman he's been with since I left him – and you know Peter, there would've been a few – every single one of them was a rebound from me."

Toyah didn't have a comeback ready; she simply walked away, seething with suppressed anger and frustration, from this woman who she despised, and sat down opposite Peter, the man she still loved, to formally dissolve the only thing left in the world that connected the two of them together.

It was only then that Carla noticed Eva, standing by the bar, almost in the shadows, as if she wanted to retreat from the room, from the world.

"Hey," Carla spoke kindly to Eva. "How are you?"

"Me?" Eva immediately put on a front. "Oh, I'm fantastic, you know me."

Carla looked at Eva knowingly; she herself vaguely remembered those overwhelming early few months of motherhood, the constant worry and sleep deprivation, and sensed Eva might be feeling similar.

"If you must know, I'm exhausted."

"Mmm hmm," murmured Carla in agreement.

"And…" Eva's voice broke. "I'm lonely."

"Oh, love."

"How did you do it, Carla? Be a single parent?"

"I know it's hard, doing it on your own and feeling isolated. Some days it's all you can do to get through the day without having a full-scale meltdown."

"Tell me about it."

"And then other days you do have that meltdown. But that's okay. Because there's always tomorrow. And ninety-nine times out of a hundred, tomorrow will be better than today."

"I dunno, Carla, sometimes I feel like –"

Eva's confession was interrupted by the Rovers door swinging open and the new owners sauntering through the entrance like a conquering army.

"Surprise!" Jenny Connor was delighted with the impact of her and Johnny's arrival.

"You?" Carla directed her disbelief at Johnny. "You've bought the Rovers?"

"That's right," Johnny swaggered to Peter and Toyah's table, ignoring his daughter's confused look. "Are we doing this then?"

* * *

"Well, that's it, love." Peter turned to Carla. "You ready to go?"

"Umm, give me a minute," Carla's gaze was fixed on Johnny, who was stood behind the bar surveying his new empire. "I want a word with Johnny."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I have to try, don't I?"

Carla tentatively approached the bar.

"Johnny?"

"We're not open yet."

"Can we talk?"

"You and me have nothing to talk about. Now, if you don't mind." Johnny motioned towards the door; he wanted her gone.

"How many times do you want me to apologise?"

"I don't want your apologies. Saying sorry isn't going to bring my son back."

"We're family, Johnny, we have to find a way through this."

"No. We're not family." Johnny's voice was cold. "We're just two people who live on the same street. If you want a drink, I'll be happy to serve you during opening hours. Otherwise, not interested."

Carla turned away from her father before he could see the tears that had sprung in her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. She hurried over to where Peter was waiting for her, desperate to get outside and away from a room filled with people who, by and large, hated her.

"Are you okay, love?" Peter wrapped a protective arm around her.

"Not really, no."

"Carla!"

"Oh god, what now?"

Carla turned around; Eva was hurrying to speak to her, she had obviously been waiting for an opportunity.

"Listen, Carla, I was wondering if, I don't know, you might want a catch up? Now? Umm, a coffee at Roys or summat?"

"I dunno, Eva, I'm a bit done in."

"Oh, I just thought, I, umm… That's okay, maybe another time."

Eva turned and started to walk away. Carla looked at Peter wearily; he rubbed her back, encouraging her to speak.

"Eva!"

Eva turned around, hopeful; expectant.

"Coffee at Roys sounds great."

* * *

Carla wondered why Eva had been so desperate to speak to her. There they were, sat in a quiet corner of Roys Rolls, a coffee and sticky bun each on the table in front of them, and Susie laying peacefully in her pram; yet Eva was unusually reluctant to engage in conversation.

"So," Carla desperately tried to get Eva talking. "How's the new flat?"

"Yeah, it's okay."

"Right…"

Eva absently picked at her sticky bun.

"Is everything okay, Eva?"

Eva looked at Carla as if for the first time.

"Nothing's okay. And I don't know how to fix it."

Susie started grizzling in her pram; Eva ignored her daughter, or perhaps didn't hear her, Carla couldn't be sure. But, when she continued to ignore her as she started to cry at full voice, Carla couldn't help but step in and pick Susie up.

Eva watched with great interest as Carla soothed the baby, rocking her gently in her arms and making comforting noises.

"You're really good with her," Eva sounded envious. "How do you do it?"

"I've had lots of practice remember?"

"I'm hopeless with her."

"Hey, I'm sure you're not," Carla tried to reassure Eva. "Give it some time. You should've seen me when Jamie was this age. Absolutely clueless."

"Really?" Eva clung onto the hope this gave her. "I just feel so stupid most of the time. I have no idea what I'm doing."

"No one does, darlin'. That's one of the joys of motherhood, you figure it out as you go along."

"And I cry. All the time." Eva was on the verge of tears just making this confession to Carla. "And I'm worried that me being so sad is going to make Susie sad, or damaged."

"Have you talked to your doctor?"

"About what?"

"About how you're feeling?"

"I can't tell the doctor these things," Eva was horrified at the thought. "What if they call the Social? Say I'm an unfit mother?"

"That's not how it works, Eva. Doctors are there to help you, okay? And if your doctor's not helping, then you get a new one. But I really think you need to talk to someone."

"I'm talking to you."

"I mean a professional."

"Oh," Eva was scared at the prospect of sharing her feelings with a stranger. "I don't know."

"Eva, look at this gorgeous baby girl." Carla looked down at Susie in her arms and then up at Eva. "Your daughter. She needs you to be healthy. And happy. Do it for her."

Eva stared at her daughter and desperately tried to work up the courage to follow Carla's advice.

"Okay," she suddenly blurted out. "I'll go tomorrow, to the doctor."

"Good. That's good."

"Can you look after Susie while I'm there?"

"Umm, sure."

"You'll think it's a cheek but… Can you take her for the day?"

"The whole day?"

"I knew it was too much to ask, I'm sorry, forget I said anything."

"No, no, it's okay. Yeah, tomorrow will be fine." Carla leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Susie's forehead. "Who wouldn't want to spend the day with this angel? Hey?"

* * *

"You did what?"

"I promised Eva I'd look after Susie tomorrow," Carla couldn't understand why Peter was so upset. "Is that a problem?"

"If you have to ask, then, yes, it's very much a problem."

"Peter, I –"

"Did you for one moment think how I would feel about it?"

"Umm… no, not really. I'm sorry, Peter, I don't understand."

"I thought she was my daughter. I loved her like she was my daughter. And now you want me to have her in my home…but now as a complete stranger to me? I can't do it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think. But, I promised Eva. I can't go back on my word now. Maybe, I dunno, if you can't be around Susie, maybe you could stay with your dad tomorrow?"

"You're kicking me out?"

"No! Don't be ridiculous! I'm trying to spare your feelings."

"I'm ridiculous now, am I?"

"For god's sake, Peter! What do you want me to do? Do you want me to call Eva and cancel? You know she's struggling, don't you? Doing this on her own. And, you know what? If you ever cared about that baby like you say you did, surely you'd want to help her mother?"

Peter sighed; he hated to admit it. "You're right."

"Ooh, say that again," Carla edged over to Peter, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him suggestively.

"You. are. right." Peter kissed the tip of Carla's nose playfully. "Don't get used to it."

"So, you're really okay with tomorrow?" Carla planted a kiss on Peter's cheek, his neck, his lips.

"I might need some more persuading."

"Oh yeah?" Carla pulled Peter's face towards hers and kissed him, her mouth open, her tongue flickering along his lips. "How long has your dad got the kids for?"

"A few hours yet," Peter responded to Carla's kisses, to Carla's tongue.

"Come on then."

Carla grabbed Peter's hand and pulled him towards the bedroom, giggling in anticipation.

* * *

"So much for Peter not wanting to be around baby Susie," Carla thought to herself.

She looked about her with satisfaction. The whole family was gathered in the living room watching a movie. Simon was draped over an armchair, half watching the movie, half playing on his phone. Jamie was snuggled up next to Carla, Snowy on her lap, eyes fixated on the television screen. And then there was Peter and Susie; Peter was stretched out on the sofa, his head on a pillow in Carla's lap. He was fast asleep. On his chest, also fast asleep, lay Susie, Peter's protective hands holding her safe.

Carla gently stroked Peter's hair; Jamie, wanting in on the action, playfully tickled her dad's nose. He swiped at her hand as his nose twitched; both Jamie and Carla stifled giggles, but thankfully Peter never woke up.

* * *

"Still no answer," as Carla placed her phone down on the countertop.

"That's over two hours now," Peter was getting worried. "You don't think something's happened to her?"

"Oh, god. I don't know what to do. Peter?"

"I'll call Leanne," Peter noticed the look on Carla's face. "What else can we do?"

* * *

His nerves already on edge, Peter jumped as soon as he heard the security buzzer sound.

"Leanne? Yeah, come in." Peter looked across at Carla, who was cradling Susie in her arms. "She's here."

"But what does she want?"

Peter shrugged; almost immediately after first speaking to Leanne fifteen minutes ago, she had called him back, she was on her way over. He unlatched the front door ready for her imminent arrival.

* * *

"After you called," Leanne explained to Peter and Carla. "I went into Eva's bedroom. I found this."

Leanne held out an envelope to Carla; it had Carla's name clearly written on it.

Carla tentatively took the envelope from Leanne's hand and quickly tore it open. Inside was a note. She read aloud:

"Carla. I'm sorry I lied to you, but it was the only way I could think of that would give me enough time to get away. I didn't go to the doctor today, I never intended to. I've tried to be a good mum to Susie, but I can't. And I love her too much to keep on hurting her with my bad mothering. Which is why I want you and Peter to have her. I want you to raise her as your own. I know Peter already loves her and when I saw you holding her yesterday in Roys, I knew that you would be a much better mother to her than I ever would. Tell Susie I'm sorry and that I love her with all my heart. Eva."


	25. Chapter 25: The phone call

**Chapter 25: The phone call**

"Chelle, I'm so tired," Carla sobbed. "It hurts."

"I know, darling, you're almost there, you're doing so well."

Carla looked up at her birthing partner, her best friend. Carla adored her Chelle, was eternally grateful to her for being her rock those past few months when her world was falling apart, that she was here with her now at the birth of her daughter. But still Carla wanted someone else.

"He didn't come," Carla blinked back the tears. "I really thought he'd come, Chelle."

"I know you did," Michelle tried to soothe Carla. "I'm sorry."

"You told Ken, didn't you? He does know?"

"He knows. I called him as soon as you went into labour. You need to forget about him now, Car, and focus on this precious baby that wants to meet its mama."

"Oh god," Carla clenched her teeth.

"What is it?" Michelle studied Carla's face anxiously while gently mopping her brow with a cool damp cloth.

"I really wanna push," Carla looked up at the midwife for guidance. "I wanna push. That means it's time, right?"

The midwife confirmed to Carla what her body had already told her; it was time.

A sudden feeling of mingled fear and excitement spread like a wave over Carla's body; all the preparation she'd done, the books she'd read, the plans she'd made, they all flew out of her mind. All her adult life, Carla had wanted to be in control; had fought friend and foe alike to gain and retain that control in both her personal and professional life. But now she had to let go of that control and simply trust; in the midwife, the trained medical professionals in the hospital; and in her body to do what nature had designed it to do.

And, for the first time, Carla forgot all about Peter; all her focus – all her love – was on her baby girl.

* * *

Carla fell back against the pillows, exhausted yet exhilarated, eager to officially meet her baby. Carla gasped as the midwife carefully placed her newborn daughter on her chest; she stared at this perfectly formed tiny creature in her arms and understood for the first time what pure unconditional love felt like.

"Hi," Carla whispered to her daughter, delighting in the feel of her skin against her baby's skin, in the faint rhythm of her heart beating against her chest. "Oh, baby girl, mama loves you so much."

She leaned down and softly kissed her little miracle.

Carla looked up at Michelle. "Look at her, Chelle, she's perfect."

"Isn't she just," Michelle gently stroked the baby's head and leaned in to kiss Carla's forehead. "Well done, you."

"This is your Aunty Chelle," Carla spoke softly. "And this…" looking up at Michelle. "Is Jamie. Jamie Connor."

"Jamie Connor," Michelle mused as she tickled said Jamie's chest. "I like it. No middle name?"

"Middle names, they're just to placate grannies who want a namesake. No, I'm breaking tradition with this one."

"And you're definitely settled on Connor? Not Barlow? Or Donovan?"

"Barlow? I don't think so, Chelle."

"Donovan?"

"I haven't been a Donovan for a long time. Besides, I wouldn't want to inflict that family name on something so innocent, and so precious." Carla gazed down at Jamie and indulgently squeezed her little feet. "I'm going to be a Connor again soon enough anyway."

Carla swore that Jamie's childhood would be different to her own. Then and there she made a promise to her daughter to give her the things that she hadn't had growing up; the feeling of being safe and of being loved. She believed everything else would work itself out if they only had these two things.

* * *

"Hey, love," Peter kissed Carla softly on the forehead, his hand raking gently through her hair, recalling her back to the present, and sat down next to her on the sofa. "Where were you?"

"Hey?" Carla looked at Peter absently.

"You were a million miles away."

"Oh," Carla was thoughtful for a moment. She looked down at baby Susie sleeping peacefully in her arms. "I was thinking about when Jamie was born."

"Right," Peter didn't know what to say. He wished with all his heart that he had been there; that Carla hadn't gone through it alone.

"Why didn't you come?"

"What do you mean?"

"I thought you'd come to the hospital. I made sure Ken knew. Did he not tell you?"

Peter looked into Carla's eyes; even now after nearly four years, they were full of the pain of his absence from the most important moment of their lives. He silently berated himself for giving into the fear of suffering yet further rejection that had kept him away from the hospital that day.

"He told me," Peter felt ashamed at his confession. "He called me straight away. I'm sorry, I didn't think you wanted me there."

"Whatever had happened between us, this was the birth of your daughter. Our daughter."

"I don't know what to say. Did you have someone...?"

"Chelle."

"Of course."

"It's my own fault really. I should've been clearer with Ken. Asked him straight out to ask you to come."

"No, it was me, I was a coward, I should've fought to be there no matter what."

"Are we gonna argue about who's more at fault?"

"If you don't agree with me, then yes." Peter was under no illusions about the damage his past behaviour had caused. "I think it's safe to say that everything that went wrong with us was my fault. So, it was up to me to fix it any way I could. And I didn't."

"Maybe," Carla was keen to change the subject. "He came to visit me, you know?"

"Who?"

"Your dad."

* * *

Carla lay in her hospital bed, Jamie snuggled into the crook of her arm; she didn't know how long the two of them had been there, how long she'd been gazing down at her daughter, tracing every feature of her face and searing it onto her mind and onto her heart. She didn't care; she could quite happily spend the rest of her life here, just her and Jamie.

A soft knock at the door as it was gently pushed open.

"Carla?"

"Hi Ken, come in and meet your granddaughter."

Ken, beaming with pride, walked to the hospital bed and looked with delight at the newborn baby in Carla's arms.

"She's beautiful," Ken kissed Carla on the cheek. "Just like her mum."

"Oh, give over, I look a right mess." Carla nodded to the chair next to her bed. "Have a seat, Ken. Do you want to hold her?"

"I'd love to, thank you."

Carla placed Jamie into Ken's arms. "I've called her Jamie."

"Jamie," Ken gently rocked Jamie in his arms. "Welcome to the family, Jamie."

* * *

Ken placed Jamie back in her mother's arms.

"If you need anything, anything at all, you let me know."

"Thanks, Ken."

"Before I go, could I possibly, if it's alright with you, take a photo? You know, for the family gallery on the sideboard."

"Of course." Carla had always had a soft spot for her father-in-law and, despite her marriage to his son having ended in disaster, she still cared about Ken and had decided months ago that she would actively include him in Jamie's life. "Where do you want her? On the bed?"

"No, stay where you are. I want you in the photo as well."

"But, I mean, I'm not exactly family anymore, am I?"

"Carla, it doesn't matter that you and Peter have gone your separate ways, you are the mother of my granddaughter, which makes you family. You always will be."

* * *

"Dad was so proud when Jamie was born," Peter recalled. "I know you might not believe me, but so was I."

Peter stood and retrieved his wallet from the kitchen counter. He pulled out an old and worn photograph and handed it to Carla.

Carla tentatively took the photograph in her hands; the tears sprang into her eyes as she recognised her own face staring back at her, a face blanched with the pain of childbirth, and the wonder of the newborn baby cradled in her arms.

It was the photograph Ken had taken years ago at the hospital.

"Dad sent me a copy," Peter explained.

"And you kept it? All this time?"

"I treasured it always."

Cradling Susie in one arm, Carla reached out to Peter with the other, pulling him close and kissing him, her fingers raking through his hair and gently massaging his neck.

* * *

"We really need to make this call."

Carla sighed, she was not looking forward to this. "Are you gonna do it then?"

"Me?" Peter held his hands up in protest. "She hates me remember?!"

"Yeah, well, she hates me just as much!"

"I'm not doing it."

"Neither am I."

Just as stubborn as each other, they had reached a stalemate.

"Rock, paper, scissors," Carla suggested. "Loser makes the call."

"Are you serious?"

"You scared I'm gonna beat ya?"

"No."

"So...?"

"Fine."

They each held their hands clenched into a fist in front of them. One – two – three…paper covers rock; Peter loses.

"Best out of three."

"No! I won, fare and square!"

"Come on, baby, give me a chance."

"Okay, if it'll make you feel better about being a loser."

One – two – three…paper covers rock, again; Peter loses, again.

"You are so predictable!" Carla gloated over her win. "You think I'll change, so you stay the same. Every. single. time."

"Don't rub it in."

"Now make the call."

Peter grimaced; he had been dreading this phone call. But he knew it had to be made; she needed to know what had happened; they needed to know if she had heard anything.

So, Peter picked up his phone and dialled a number that was written on a loose sheet of paper.

"It's ringing," Peter informed Carla nervously. "Hello? Hi? Is that Stella? It's Peter. Peter Barlow…Before you kick off can you please just listen to what –"

Peter rolled his eyes as he held the phone away from his ear. Carla smiled sympathetically and placed a soft kiss on Peter's cheek as he began what was sure to be a difficult conversation with his ex-mother-in-law. As their efforts to track Eva down had so far been fruitless, they reasoned that she must, at some point, contact her mum.

In the meantime, Susie was rapidly becoming more than just a guest in their home; she was becoming part of their family, an indispensable part. Both Carla and Peter lived with the constant fear that Eva might return any day to reclaim her daughter and tear their new family unit apart.


	26. Chapter 26: Battle lines

**Chapter 26: Battle lines**

"Is it much further?"

"Almost there, love."

Peter gripped Carla's hand tightly as he guided her the final few steps to their ultimate destination.

"Okay, lift your feet on the next step."

Carla awkwardly lifted her feet ridiculously high in the air as she took the step.

"That's it," Peter reassured her. "Okay, stop."

"Can I take this off?"

"Let me."

Peter untied the knots that were holding the scarf covering Carla's eyes in place.

"Keep your eyes closed until I say, yeah?"

"Whatever."

Peter removed Carla's blindfold and positioned her body so she would have the best view when she opened her eyes.

"You ready?"

"Yes! Just get on with it!"

Peter laughed; he was enjoying this little game.

"Okay, open."

Carla opened her eyes, blinking as she readjusted to the daylight and focused on her unknown surroundings.

"I don't understand," Carla looked at Peter in confusion. "Where are we?"

"If you like it, this will be our new home."

"Seriously, Peter, what's going on?"

"Okay, you want specifics, I get that. We are on the top floor, the penthouse if you will, of the Redbank Apartments on Victoria Street."

"Okay… Next question… Why?"

"We agreed, didn't we? We need a bigger flat. This place, it takes up the whole floor. It's perfect for us."

"It's umm…" Carla looked around her, unconvinced by what she saw. "Look, I understand the concept of a warehouse conversion, but… this place, it's more warehouse than conversion."

"Yes, but that's the best bit," Peter noticed Carla's look of disbelief. "Just hear me out okay?"

Carla held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, I'm listening."

"The owner was halfway through renovating this place – you know it used to be two flats, but he bought both and knocked through to make it one big flat. Completely gutted the place. Anyway, he ran out of money and now he's desperate to sell. So, we can get it for a song."

"But Peter… we need something now, not in six months' time when the renovations are finished."

"I know it's not finished finished, but, look, all the partition walls are up, the kitchen is in, the bathroom, all the services are connected. Then, once we've moved in, all we have to do is those finishing touches. Which will be all our own choices. The colours and materials, everything! How great will that be?"

"Meanwhile, what, we live in a construction site?"

"For a little while, yeah. But, baby, when we're done we'll have the perfect home for our family."

Carla was still dubious.

"And you know, now that I'm not working and I've got some cash from the sale of the Rovers, I can do a lot of the work myself. And the stuff I can't do, I'll project manage. So, you won't have to worry about a thing."

"I don't know, Peter."

"You hate it," Peter couldn't hide his disappointment.

"Oh, no, darlin'," Carla gave Peter a reassuring peck on the lips. "I love it as an idea, it's beautiful. It's just, it's a lot of work. And with three kids to look after, including a baby, I don't think it's very practical."

"Okay…" Peter desperately searched for an upside. "But, the flat itself, you don't have anything against that?"

"No, I told you, I think it's a beautiful flat. Or will be, when it's finished."

"Can you please promise me one thing?"

"What?"

"Don't say no straight away. At least have a proper think about it. Please, baby."

Carla could see the excitement in Peter's eyes, the vision of the dream home he had already built in his mind, and couldn't bring herself to crush his hopes just yet.

"Okay, I'll think about it."

"Seriously think about it?"

"I'm not promising anything."

"Thank you!" Peter grabbed Carla and kissed her. "Thank you."

* * *

"And you know the master bedroom, well, suite would be a better word it's so big," Peter continued his sales pitch on Carla as they walked home. "We could build our own ensuite bathroom. Twin vanity units. A double shower. Hey? And you could have a walk-in wardrobe. You'd like that, yeah?"

"What?" Carla turned to face Peter, her interest piqued. "You mean, like a proper dressing room?"

"Absolutely."

"With a dressing table? And a Hollywood mirror?"

"Whatever you want, love."

"Hmm…" Carla grinned at Peter, linking her arm through his. "It's definitely something to think about."

"Where's my granddaughter then?"

Carla and Peter had been so engrossed in their conversation, they hadn't seen Johnny approaching until he was almost level with them.

"Which one?" Carla knew he meant Susie, but wasn't about to let him get away with this casual neglect of Jamie.

Guilt flashed across Johnny's face; for a moment he was subdued.

"All three of the kids are with my dad," Peter explained kindly.

"Right," Johnny was building up to something. "Well, you won't have to worry about babysitters for Susie much longer."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've just seen my lawyer and he thinks I've got a strong case to win custody of Susie."

"What?" Peter was incredulous.

"You can't do that!" Carla was plain angry. "Eva wanted her to stay with us."

"_Eva_ wanted?" Johnny almost spat the name, he found it so distasteful. "Eva's not here. If Eva were any kind of mother, Eva wouldn't have abandoned her baby."

"She just needs some time to sort herself out."

"Open your eyes, Carla," Johnny's resentment towards Eva blocked from his heart any sympathy for her. "She's not up to the job. She's not mother material."

"Okay, yeah, she was struggling a bit," Carla tried to plead Eva's case. "Is it any wonder? After everything with Aidan? I mean, she's still grieving."

"_She's_ grieving?!" Johnny was almost incandescent with rage at the suggestion that Eva had any right to grieve for Aidan. "What about me? What about Kate?"

"I didn't mean –"

"Susie needs to be with her family," Johnny insisted. "And that means her father's family."

"I'm her father's family. She's my niece."

"You are nothing to her," Johnny's cruelty stung Carla; the tears sprang to her eyes as her father's words cut her deep.

"Hey," Peter decided it was time to step in. "That's not true, Johnny. I know you're hurting, but don't take it out on Carla."

"What's all this then? I can hear you lot halfway down the street."

"Oh, god," Carla rolled her eyes at the newcomer. "What do you want?"

"That's nice," Leanne couldn't help but be pleased with Carla's displeasure.

"Not now, Lee," Peter tried to diffuse the situation.

"No," Leanne stubbornly refused to walk on. "What's going on? Is Susie okay?"

"No, she's not," Johnny didn't care who knew his plans. "But she will be as soon as I've got custody of her. You'll be hearing from my lawyer."

Having successfully dropped his bombshell, Johnny stormed away from the trio.

With crossed arms and a raised eyebrow, Leanne turned to face Carla and Peter. "Well? Explain yourselves."

* * *

Carla wouldn't have bothered with the social niceties, but Peter insisted on making them tea before they started. When finally they were sat at his and Carla's dining table, a freshly brewed cup of tea in front of each of them, he knew it would be up to him to break the ice.

"So, how do you wanna do this?"

Leanne took her time raising her cup to her lips. "There's no hurry." She looked around the flat, curious to see Peter's new living arrangements. "Aren't you finding this place a little cramped with your rapidly expanding family?"

"Oh, come on Leanne," Carla's patience had run out. "Don't pretend this is some cosy social call. That we're all friends or summat."

"Love, that's not helping, is it?"

"What? Peter, she's enjoying this way too much."

The truth was, Leanne was enjoying herself.

"That's the last time I try to be friendly," Leanne smirked, overjoyed that Carla had snapped first.

An awkward silence fell over the group; no one seemed willing to break the deadlock.

The security buzzer sounded.

"Ignore it," Carla commanded Peter.

"Answer it," Leanne loved being contradictory, especially with her old adversary. "That'll be Toyah."

"What the hell did you call her for?" It was Peter's turn to snap.

"She's part of this family, Susie's family."

"She's not!"

"She has every right to be here."

"Just let her in, Peter," Carla was tired of fighting. "What does it matter? It's already a circus."

Peter reluctantly buzzed Toyah into the building and unlatched the front door. He returned to the table to wait in a heavy silence filled with tension and lingering resentment.

Soon enough, Toyah entered the flat with more than a little trepidation, curious to know why she had been summoned.

"So, what's going on?"

Carla and Peter were both hesitant to answer, so Leanne promptly stepped in.

"It's Johnny, he's suing for custody of Susie."

"He can't do that," Toyah's response was immediate and conclusive. "He's got no right."

"Exactly," Carla couldn't believe that she was agreeing with Toyah. "That's what we said."

"If anyone's going for custody of Susie, then it'll be me and Leanne."

"You've got to be joking!" Peter couldn't believe what he was hearing; the emotional scars inflicted on Peter by Toyah's betrayal had far from healed. Her matter-of-fact claim over Susie enraged him. "After what you did?"

"I was a mother to that child from the day she was born."

"A mother!?" Peter scoffed. "I think you mean a scheming, manipulative liar!"

"You know how much I loved her," Toyah's voice wavered; even now, she couldn't suppress her sense of loss and heartbreak when she thought or spoke of Susie. "I still do."

"Love?! You don't know the meaning of the word!"

"That's not fair."

"Peter," Carla tried to diffuse the rapidly escalating situation. "Give her a chance to talk, yeah?"

"No!" Peter couldn't believe Carla was taking Toyah's side. "Why are you defending her?"

"I'm not, I'm just trying to –"

"I'm not having her calmly walk into our home and try to take Susie away from us. Not after everything she did. I mean, she's not even blood related."

"Neither are you," Leanne interjected.

"I am though," Carla waded in, determined to fight her brother's corner.

"So am I," Leanne pointed out. "Which gives me just as strong a claim over her as you do."

"You're forgetting one thing, Leanne."

"What's that?"

"Eva. She wants Susie here. With us."

"Eva wasn't thinking straight."

"I can't believe you're being so pigheaded."

"A judge will agree with me."

"As if."

"She's best off with us."

"You're deluded."

"I'm deluded? That's a laugh!"

"You won't be laughing in court!"

"Stop it! Stop!"

The four adults were suddenly aware of the new arrivals. Simon, pushing baby Susie in a pram, along with Jamie, had just entered the flat.

"What are you doing?" Simon stormed over to the dining table. "Why are you fighting?"

"Si," Peter immediately calmed down at the sight of his son. "This is nothing for you to worry about."

"I think it is."

"We were just talking."

"You were fighting. I heard what you were fighting about."

"I'm sorry, Si," Leanne tried to reach out to Simon, but he shook her off. "You shouldn't be dragged into this."

"I can't believe you're doing this again!"

"What do you mean, son?"

"Don't you remember when you were fighting over me? Don't you remember what happened?"

Of course they remembered; for a moment, they hung their heads in shame at the memory of the trauma they had put Simon through during the vicious custody battle six years earlier. How, out of desperation, he had drunk himself into temporary oblivion at only eight years old; how they had waited anxiously by his bedside in hospital, praying that he would recover, that there would be no lasting damage.

"Come on, Jamie," Simon held out his hand to his sister. "Let's go play in your room."

"Si," Peter called after his son. "I'm sorry."

"He's right," Carla spoke gently and, for the first time, without any antagonism. "We need to work together in Susie's best interests."

"What are you suggesting?" As much as she hated Carla, Leanne knew she had to make the effort for Susie's sake. And so, the former enemies called an unspoken truce and joined forces.

"What's the best outcome here?" Carla pondered. "For Susie I mean? In the long run."

"For Eva to come back?"

"Exactly. So, we look after her daughter for her; love her, protect her, until Eva's ready to be her mother again."

"And we keep the social and the lawyers out of it."

"Definitely."

"What do you think, Toyah?" Leanne looked to her sister, but Toyah was no longer engaged with the conversation; she was gazing down at Susie in her pram.

Unaware that she was now being watched, Toyah picked Susie up and cradled her in her arms.

"Hi, my precious girl," Toyah whispered softly to Susie. "I've missed you so much, my angel."

"Toyah," Leanne approached her sister, watching with apprehension as Toyah tried to relive her time as Susie's mother.

But Toyah either didn't hear, or didn't want to hear. She closed her eyes and snuggled Susie's head into the crook of her neck. Leanne placed her hand gently on Toyah's arm.

"Leave her, Toyah."

"Just a little bit longer," Toyah begged as she kissed Susie softly on the top of her head. "Please, Lee."

"You have to let her go," Leanne gently took hold of Susie and prised her out of Toyah's arms. "Come on now."

Reluctantly and with tears forming in her eyes, Toyah allowed Leanne to take Susie from her.

"I better get her home," as Leanne placed Susie in Carla's arms.

"Yeah," Carla saw, for the first time, the anguish of Toyah's loss.

"What are we gonna do about Johnny?"

"Leave him to me," Carla reassured Leanne. "I'll talk to him."

"Thanks."

Leanne put her arm around Toyah's shoulders and gently guided her out of the flat.

Carla turned to Peter.

But Peter didn't want to talk. "Don't."

"Peter, you saw what she was like."

"She brought it all on herself. I've no sympathy for that woman."

Carla reached out to Peter and took his hand in hers.

"Okay, I get it."

"Thanks," Peter was grateful to Carla; he knew he was being hard-hearted, that, no matter what she had done, what lies she had told, Toyah was still hurting. But he couldn't forgive her; not yet.

"Do you mind popping out to Freshco?" Carla was anxious to change the subject and spare Peter's feelings. "We're running low on a few things…nappies, formula, those wet wipe things."

"Sure. What about dinner?"

"Let's order pizza, yeah? Make it up to the kids, you know, after seeing us argue like that."

"I'll buy some nice ice cream for after."

"Thanks, babe."

* * *

"It's a lingerie shoot," Carla explained to a modelling agent over the phone. "If you could send some portfolios over…We want someone that can commit to being the face of Underworld, probably a year-long contract to start with."

"Mummy! Mummy!" Jamie came running into the room. Carla pressed her finger to her lips in an ultimately doomed effort to silence her daughter.

"Mummy! Si's being stupid."

"Don't call your brother stupid," Carla held the phone the away from her mouth as she hissed her reproach.

"Sorry," Carla spoke into the phone again, this time a little bit flustered. "In about two weeks, yeah…Well, it depends on the photographer really."

"Jamie!" Simon stalked indignantly into the room. "I can't get it out you silly girl!"

"I'm not silly! Mummy!"

"Carla, look at what Jamie did. She drew on my favourite t-shirt."

"Cause Si was being stupid!"

"You're stupid!"

"You are!"

Jamie pushed Simon; Simon pinched Jamie's arm.

"Ow! Mummy! Si hurt me!"

"I'm sorry," Carla was mortified. "Can I call you back?" Carla laughed nervously. "Yeah, kids, ey? I'm so sorry. Thanks, bye."

"Oi!"

Immediately, Jamie and Simon stopped their bickering.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Jamie drew on my t-shirt."

"Si was annoying me."

"You're annoying me."

"You are!"

"No! You are!"

"Shut up!" Carla screamed at them.

"What's all this then?"

Peter walked in the door, arms full of shopping.

"Daddy, Si –"

"Jamie!" Jamie instinctively knew her mum meant business and fell silent.

"Go to your rooms," Carla ordered Jamie and Simon.

"I don't have a room, remember?"

Carla sighed and turned to Peter. "Do you still have those keys?"

* * *

"I want this bedroom!" Jamie's excited yet muffled voice echoed through the penthouse of the Redbank Apartments.

"This one's mine!" Simon's voice came, thankfully, from a different room.

Carla wandered around the open plan living area, with its soaring vaulted ceilings and immense arched windows through which the golden pink tones of sunset poured into the room.

She bounced Susie in her arms as she considered the kitchen fittings.

"We'd have to put a new kitchen in," Carla noted. "These cabinets are vile."

"Whatever you want, love." Peter couldn't help but grin as he watched his family imagine themselves living here.

"And don't forget that dressing room you promised me."

"What are you saying? Do you…?"

"Put an offer in."

"What? Now?"

"Why wait?"

Peter stared at Carla incredulously, his heart beating fast in nervous anticipation.

"Are you sure?"

Jamie and Simon came running into the room, their faces full of excitement as their plans for their new bedrooms came tumbling out of their mouths.

"Can I have pink walls, mummy?"

"Can I have a TV in my room?"

"Yeah, I am."

Carla kissed Peter softly on the lips and stroked his cheek gently with her fingers.

"It feels like home."


	27. Chapter 27: Moving day

**Chapter 27: Moving day**

"Mummy!" Jamie called out to her mum plaintively.

"Just a minute, darling," Carla tried to reassure her daughter. "I'm just getting the door."

Carla opened the front door of her and Peter's new penthouse in the Redbank apartment building and waited while her visitor made their way up from the ground floor security door.

"Hi," Carla held out her hand to the young woman who appeared as the lift doors opened. "I'm Carla. You must be Keira?"

"That's right," Keira smiled shyly and briefly gripped Carla's outstretched hand.

"Come in," Carla ushered Keira inside before shutting the door and following her in. "I'm so sorry for the last-minute change of venue. It's total chaos around here at the moment. Please, sit down."

Keira sat down in the armchair Carla pointed out to her, while Carla sat on the sofa opposite where Jamie was laying in her pyjamas, clutching her teddy, her blankie drawn over her body and Snowy the cat curled up next to her.

"We're just moving in here today, it's only half-renovated… obviously, and this one…" Carla glanced down at Jamie with a smile. "…this one came down with a tummy bug, didn't you baby?"

Jamie nodded mournfully up at her mum; Carla stroked her hair lovingly.

"Oh, you poor thing," Keira smiled at Jamie sympathetically before nodding at the bassinette set up next to the sofa. "And you've got a baby as well?"

"That's Susie, but she –"

"Wow!" Keira looked from Susie to Carla. "You look amazing for someone who's just given birth."

"Actually, Susie's my niece," Carla explained. "We're just looking after her while her mum's… away."

"Oh, sorry," Keira blushed and dropped her gaze to her hands.

"It's okay," Carla laughed. "Easy mistake to make. Why don't we get down to business? You brought your portfolio?"

Keira handed a black folio to Carla who opened it and began to flick through the photographs inside. Curious, Jamie crawled towards Carla and curled up by her side, her head resting on her mum's breast. Carla instinctively wrapped her arm around Jamie as they both looked at Keira's photos.

"She pretty, mummy."

"She is."

"Not as pretty as you, mummy."

"Aww, baby." Carla kissed Jamie affectionately on her forehead.

"You've got some really nice stuff here," Carla looked up at Keira.

"Thank you."

"Definitely the image we're going for. Fresh, healthy, vibrant. Did your agent tell you much about Underworld?"

"Just that you make lingerie and that you've recently rebranded as a high-end retailer."

"That's pretty much it in a nutshell," Carla agreed. "We used to be solely manufacturers of other people's designs but we, umm… we got the opportunity to redesign the business from the ground up so to speak, so we decided to come out with our own line, our own brand. We wanted to make lingerie that was special, luxurious, unique, great quality of course. Quality over quantity, you know? It was quite late in the day really when we decided to design a range that was made specifically for the teen market. Something less sexy, more fun, but still feminine. Fun prints and colours, natural fabrics, ethically sourced fabrics, that kind of thing. So that's why you're here, for the teens range. You're, umm…" Carla flipped to the front of the folio. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"That's perfect," Carla smiled at Keira. "Do you have any questions?"

"Umm, no." Keira shook her head. "I mean, it all sounds great. I'd love to be involved."

"Okay, why don't we get you wearing some of this stuff." Carla rose to her feet and walked towards a rack of clothes that had been set up by the wall; she flicked through the hangers, looking for the perfect outfit for Keira, pulling out one after the other before settling on a fitted cropped cami top in a tropical jungle print, contrasting boxer-briefs and a flowing lightweight kimono wrap in a vibrant teal colour.

"Did you want to get changed into these?" Carla handed Keira the outfit and pointed towards the door that led to the hallway of the bedroom wing. "You can use the bedroom. It's through there, second door on your right."

"Thanks," Keira took the hangers from Carla with a grin and hurried to the makeshift changing room.

Carla took the opportunity to check on Jamie; she sat down on the sofa and, after Jamie immediately crawled into her mother's arms, held her daughter close and rocked her gently from side-to-side.

"How you feeling, baby?"

"My tummy hurts."

"I know it does, I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Carla kissed her forehead. "Do you feel like something to eat yet?"

Jamie shook her head.

"No? Okay. Just make sure you keep on drinking your water, yeah?"

Jamie nodded as she snuggled closer into her mum. Just then, Keira came sashaying back into the room, the tail of her kimono wrap fluttering hypnotically through the air behind her as she walked.

"Wow!" Carla admired the effect. "You look amazing."

"Thanks" Keira smiled. "It's really comfortable actually, the fabric's really soft."

"The top and pants, they're made from a hemp bamboo blend," Carla explained. "If I could get you to stand by the wall over there, next to the window, I'll take a couple of reference shots."

Keira stood where Carla directed; Carla tried to disentangle herself from Jamie, but Jamie refused to be put down, whimpering every time Carla tried. In the end, Carla held Jamie precariously in one arm, her daughter's legs and arms wrapped tightly around her body, while in the other hand she clutched her phone.

"If you just stand normally, hands by your side, don't pose or anything," Carla directed Keira. "That's great."

Carla snapped a handful of pictures of Keira; full-length, close-up, profile.

"That's fantastic. Now, if I could get you to walk."

"Where?"

"Umm, if you start up there," Carla pointed to the far end of the open-plan living space. "And walk down to the middle just here, do two poses, then turn and walk back."

"Sure."

"Whenever you're ready."

Carla used her phone in video mode this time to film while Keira pretended the living room was a catwalk and strutted her way to the middle of the room before posing, hand on her hip, then switch, another pose, before turning with a swish of fabric and hair to stalk her way back to the wall. There she turned and looked at Carla expectantly, but it was Jamie who reacted first, clapping and cheering her approval.

"Yay!"

Keira grinned at the sight of the little girl's excitement when suddenly the front door slammed. Carla, Jamie and Keira all turned to see the new arrivals; Peter and Simon, each manoeuvring a hand trolley laden with boxes.

"Oh, hi," Peter glanced awkwardly at Keira. "Sorry to interrupt."

"Daddy!" Jamie called out to her dad enthusiastically. Peter abandoned his trolley and strolled to the sofa, kissing Jamie softly on her head.

"Hi, sweetheart, how you feeling? Does your tummy still hurt?"

Jamie nodded.

"You just rest, okay?" Peter stroked Jamie's hair and smiled at her. "Good girl."

"Sorry, Keira," Carla was apologetic. "This is my partner, Peter, and his son, Simon. This is Keira."

It was only now when Carla introduced Simon that she noticed he was staring at Keira, as if in a trance, a daft grin plastered on his face.

"Hi Simon," Keira smiled at Simon, but all Simon could do was grin back at her.

Carla and Peter exchanged an amused glance before Peter decided it was best to get Simon out of the room quick smart.

"Si!" Peter's voice broke the spell that Keira's presence had cast over Simon. "Boxes."

Peter took possession once more of his hand trolley and led the way towards the bedrooms.

"Bye," Simon couldn't resist one last daft smile at Keira before turning to follow his dad.

"I'm sorry," Carla hoped Simon's attentions hadn't made Keira feel uncomfortable. "Please ignore Si. You'd think he'd never seen a girl before."

"That's okay, he's kinda cute."

"He's also fifteen."

An awkward silence fell over the living room; a silence that didn't break until Peter and Simon returned a few moments later, their hand trolleys now empty, and left the penthouse to collect another load of boxes from the old flat.

"As I was saying," Carla steered the conversation back to business. "We've got two separate lines; the regular line and the teens line. And we're looking for a couple of 'Faces of Underworld', some models that will feature in all of our print and online media, our catalogue, and our fashion shows. So far we're booked in for Manchester Fashion Week which, as you're probably aware, is happening very soon, and London Fashion Week later in the year."

"Like I said before, it all sounds so exciting and I'd love to be considered."

"Okay, well I'll let your agent know as soon as possible." Carla rose to her feet, a clear sign the meeting was over. "Thanks for coming in and sorry again for the change in venue and, you know, putting up with our chaos."

After Carla had shown Keira out, she flicked through the photos she'd taken of the young model and thought back to Simon's reaction to meeting her for the first time. Carla had never witnessed Simon have a crush on anyone before and couldn't help but giggle at the memory of his face, his temporary speechlessness, that daft grin. She shook her head and wondered how Peter would cope with a son who was obviously ready to begin dating. Carla couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when she thought about Jamie; that she had years to prepare herself for the day when boys and dating became something she needed to worry about.

* * *

"I reckon another two or three trips and we'll be done."

Peter and Simon were dragging their empty hand trolleys the short distance between Redbank Apartments and Victoria Court to load up with yet more boxes.

"Right," Simon replied absently, more interested in the familiar figure he could see in the distance entering Roy's Rolls. "Can we have lunch first?"

Peter looked at his watch; it was almost one-thirty. "Go on then. What do you fancy?"

"Roys!" Simon's answer was immediate and definite.

"Sure. I'll just text Carla, see if she wants anything in particular."

Simon waited impatiently while Peter stopped to text Carla.

"Dad! Come on!"

"Alright!" Peter stared at Simon quizzically. "What's the hurry?"

"I'm starving! I'll meet you in there."

Without a backwards glance, Simon turned and almost ran in his haste to get to Roys. Peter shook his head in confusion and hurried to catch up with his son.

* * *

"Out of the way, Si!" Peter pushed past his Simon, who was stood, frozen in place, just inside the entrance to Roys, blocking the path to the counter.

"Yes, Peter," Roy peered at his latest customer across the counter. "What can I get you?"

"I'll get two bacon butties with red sauce," Peter turned to Simon, who was now approaching a table where a young woman was sat drinking coffee and reading a magazine. "Si! What do you want?"

But Simon either ignored his dad, or didn't hear him.

"Si!" But Simon was oblivious. "Sorry, Roy. Umm… make that three bacon butties, please."

Peter's phone beeped; an incoming message from Carla, an addition to their café order.

"And some toast, please, Roy."

"Jam? Marmite? Peanut butter?"

"Oh, no, dry toast is fine." Peter hastened to explain. "It's for Jamie, she's got an upset tummy."

"Ah, of course, dry toast is the best thing for her. Please, have a seat. I won't be long."

As Roy hastened to prepare their lunch, Peter sat at the table near the counter and watched with amusement as Simon continued his tentative approach to the table where the young woman was sat; a woman that Peter now recognised as the model they had seen earlier at the penthouse.

"Hi," Simon was so hesitant and unsure of himself that the word barely made a sound as it exited his mouth; Keira remained ignorant to Simon's presence. But Simon hadn't come so far to give up now. He took a deep breath and tried again. "Excuse me?"

Keira looked up at Simon enquiringly.

"Hi, umm…" Now that it had come down to it, Simon wasn't sure what to say. "How did you go? With the modelling thing? I, umm, I saw you up there. I'm Simon."

"I remember you," Keira reassured him. "I think it went well. I hope so."

Keira smiled up at Simon; Simon grinned down at Keira.

"Do you wanna sit down?"

"Sure."

Simon couldn't believe his luck; he promptly sat down opposite Keira, who blushed feverishly under his intense gaze.

"Have you been doing it long?" Simon questioned Keira. "The modelling, I mean."

"Umm, yeah, I guess so. My parents, they signed me up with a child agency when I was, I think I was about two, maybe three."

"I thought you looked great," Simon was enthusiastic; a little too enthusiastic. "Back at the flat. When you were modelling for Carla."

"Thanks," Keira smiled at Simon; luckily, she found his eagerness endearing rather than creepy. "Carla, is she your mum?"

"No, she's my step-mum."

"Right."

"Si, time to go."

Simon looked up at his dad who had appeared as if by magic at the table, his arms laden with their lunch order.

"But, dad…"

"Now, before these go cold." Peter held out one of the packages to Simon. "Here, you can carry your own."

Simon reluctantly took the proffered package and rose to his feet.

"I'll see ya round?" Simon tried to sound casual, but was inwardly desperate to see Keira again.

"Yeah, maybe."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want any toast, sweetheart?"

Jamie sniffed in disgust at the dry toast Peter offered her; instead she reached for the bacon butty he was munching on.

"No, darling, this will make your tummy feel sore."

"Gimme daddy!"

Jamie used her best sad face, knowing her dad could never resist it. Today was no exception; Peter tore off a small piece of his lunch and, after looking around to make sure Carla wasn't watching, gave it to Jamie.

Jamie chewed it up and swallowed it quickly, flashing her dad a cheeky grin in thanks.

Carla, oblivious to Jamie twisting her dad around her little finger as per, was flicking through the photographs of the models she had met so far that day, while she ate her lunch absently.

"Carla?"

"Yes, Si?"

Carla barely looked up from her phone but, when Simon didn't speak again, she stopped and gazed intently at her step-son.

"What is it, Si?"

"I need a favour."

"Hmm…" Carla was dubious. "Sounds ominous."

"I need you to give me a job."

"A job? What kind of job?"

"Well, you know how you'll be doing most of your business online. I can do that. All the IT stuff. You know you're useless at all that."

"Not the best sales pitch, Si."

"Sorry," Simon was repentant, but only for a moment. "But you know it's true."

"Hmm… maybe… go on."

"And all the social media, you'll need help with that. And online shopping."

"Don't tell me? You know how to do all those things?"

"A lot of it, yeah. And what I don't know, I can figure it out. I'm good with computers, you know that."

"I do, but… What about school?"

"What about school? I hate school."

"Everyone hates school, Si, that's part of life."

"But –"

"Besides, I'm getting an agency to do all that stuff."

"Yeah, I mean, sure, they could do the big stuff, setting it all up, the design part. But you'll need someone to do that everyday stuff. Please, Carla, give me a chance. I'll do anything."

"Si, I don't know…"

"Dad!" Simon called on Peter, who was sitting with Jamie on his lap, her head resting on his shoulder, a pitiful look on her face; her tummy feeling sore again after eating that piece of bacon butty.

"What's up?"

"Tell Carla how good I am with computers."

"Si's really good with computers…?" Peter spoke to Carla as directed, a confused look on his face. "What's this about?"

"Si wants to quit school and work at Underworld."

"No chance," Peter was adamant. "Out of the question."

"But –" Simon was ready for an argument.

"I said no!"

"I don't wanna finish school, dad! I'm gonna quit!"

"You're fifteen, Si, you're not quitting school."

"But I'll learn more if I'm working."

"I don't know why you're still arguing, Si –"

"Maybe because you're wrong!"

"I'm not wrong! I know what I'm talking about."

"Guys," Carla decided it was time to step in. "Can we please calm down."

"Carla, please let me work at Underworld. Please!"

"Si, this isn't the right time."

"There'll never be a right time."

"Mummy. Daddy."

"Don't go begging to Carla, Si. I've already said no. Now, that's an end to it."

"Mummy! Daddy!"

"But it's what I want!"

"MUMMY!"

A sudden silence; Carla, Peter and Simon all turned to look at Jamie.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"The doorbell's ringing."

_Bzzzz Bzzzz Bzzzz_

Carla strode to the security intercom. "Hello? Yes, okay, come up, it's the top floor." Carla unlatched the door and turned to face her family. "That's my next appointment on her way up, so can we please leave this conversation until a more appropriate time?"

Simon glared at Peter; Peter shook his head in frustration.

"Peter!?" Carla meant business.

"Fine," Peter capitulated. "Come on, Si, let's get the rest of the boxes moved."

Peter headed towards the door, but Simon stood his ground, still seething at his dad for so quickly dismissing his dreams for the future.

"Si! Move!"

This time it was Simon's turn to back down. With a face like thunder, Simon stalked after Peter.

"Bye daddy! Bye Simon!"

And just like that, the two men's anger dissipated; how could they stay angry with each other with Jamie waving them goodbye with such sweet innocence.

"Bye sweetheart."

"Bye Jamie."

"Bye love," Peter gave Carla a peck on the lips as he passed her at the door.

"Bye."

* * *

Carla gazed out over Weatherfield from the penthouse balcony later that evening. After a hard day's labour, all of their belongings had finally been moved in and enough stuff had been unpacked to get them through the next few days.

She jumped slightly as Peter unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and, nuzzling into her hair and her neck, kissed her softly.

"Mmm…" Carla murmured. "That feels nice."

"All the kids are asleep."

"Praise the lord."

"How does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

Carla spun herself around, still wrapped in Peter's arms, so that she was facing him and rested her hands on his chest.

"To be home."

Carla smiled; she thought about what that meant. Home. This was the first home that she and Peter had created together. Before, it was either her moving into his home or him moving into hers. But this; this was theirs. Their home.

"It feels… I dunno, like it was destiny."

Peter couldn't help but smirk.

"Don't laugh!" Carla smacked him playfully. "I know that sounds cheesy."

"Just a bit."

"But that's how I feel about everything. About us, being together now, our whole family, in this place." It was Carla's turn to laugh now. "What am I like, getting all sentimental."

"You're going soft in your old age."

"Oi! Watch it, you."

But still she kissed him, and he kissed her, both revelling in being together at long last in their very own home. She clasped her hands around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, as he held her body close, one hand pulling her in by the waist, the other roaming over her back and sliding down to give her arse a cheeky squeeze.

And so they stayed like that, clinging to each other, wrapped up in each other's arms, Carla's head resting on Peter's shoulder, his lips grazing the top of her head, while they enjoyed the peace of the night.

"You know," Peter was the first to break the silence. "I think Simon's got a crush. On that model, you know, what's her name? The one that was here when we dropped off the boxes."

"Keira?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Peter laughed at the memory. "You should've seen him in the caff. Bless him, poor thing, I don't think I've ever seen him more nervous."

"As long as it stays a crush," Carla warned. "If she's gonna work for Underworld, I can't have him blurring any boundaries."

"Well, yeah, but Si won't be working for Underworld, so there won't be a problem."

"About that…"

"No."

"Hear me out, please."

"There's no point!"

"Peter."

"Okay," Peter sighed. "Say what you gotta say."

"Listen, I'm not suggesting he quits school or anything but, if this is really what he wants to do with his life, then maybe I could give him an after-school job?"

"He needs to focus on his school work."

"A part-time job's not gonna interfere with that."

"It's not like he's getting the best grades now," Peter argued. "Less time to study ain't gonna help with that."

"Or it might help him focus on what he wants to get out of school."

"I dunno, babe."

"Plenty of kids have after-school jobs, Peter. I mean, look at me, I worked in a shoe shop."

"And now you've got a life-long addiction to designer shoes."

"Ha ha," Carla mocked. "All I'm saying is, this could be good for him. So just, please, just think about it."

"If I promise to think about it, can you promise to stop talking about the kids?"

"Why? What did you want to talk about?"

"Me? I don't wanna talk at all."

"Oh, yeah?" Carla grinned at him, her eyes suddenly full of desire. "What did you have in mind?"

Peter kissed her, his lips pressed against hers, sucking gently on her lower lip before his tongue ran over her lips, parted her lips, entered her mouth. He pushed her up against the wall and slid his hands underneath her top and came to rest on her breasts, his fingers slipping beneath the lacy fabric to tweak her nipples.

All thoughts of her step-son flew from Carla's mind. She was focused on one thing and one thing only; the man in front of her, his lips that were kissing her lips, his tongue that was wrestling playfully with her tongue, his hands that were massaging her breasts, the heat of his body as it pressed up against hers, the hardness of his erection as it bulged through his jeans.

And so it was, that right there, right then, stood on their balcony, gazing out over the rooftops of Weatherfield, Peter and Carla were about to christen their new home.


	28. Chapter 28: MIA

**Chapter 28: M.I.A.**

"Hello, my princess," Johnny held his arms out to Susie. "Have you come for some granddad time? Yes, you have."

Peter handed Susie over to Johnny and glanced around the room; the last time he'd been in the back room of the Rovers was when he was landlord and this was his home.

"So, how're you enjoying your new empire?"

"Ugh, how did you cope lugging kegs up and down those cellar stairs all day long?" Johnny shook his head in dismay at the thought of this daily task.

"I won't lie, I do not miss it."

"It's a tough slog, alright," Johnny confessed, landlord to ex-landlord. "But it keeps me busy, keeps me mind off things, ya know?"

"Yeah."

"What are you doing with yourself these days?"

"Me? I'm busy renovating the new flat."

"I can't imagine Carla's happy living in a construction site."

"You know Carla. But what can you do? We needed the space now. You should come round, have a look," Peter suggested. "I mean, it is where both of your granddaughters are living."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Why don't you drop Susie off this afternoon."

"Oh, I dunno," Johnny was hesitant. "I don't wanna intrude."

"Carla's at the factory all day," Peter revealed, hoping this would sway his decision.

"Right."

"Yeah, she's getting ready for fashion week, doing fittings with the models and stuff."

"What? She's doing a runway show?"

"Manchester. London. It's all part of her and Aidan's grand plan for the relaunch of Underworld."

"They planned it together?"

"Of course." Peter hesitated, unsure if Johnny would resent the intrusion, but decided to seize the moment. "Isn't it about time you and Carla made up?"

"Peter," Johnny's voice held a stern warning.

"No," Peter refused to back down. "It's gone on long enough. None of this is her fault, so why don't you stop blaming her!?"

"That's the thing though," Johnny spoke forlornly. "It has gone on long enough. Too long. I can't… I don't know how to come back from this. From the things I've said."

"Just talk to her."

* * *

"I don't think the leg is quite right. What do you reckon, Sal?"

Carla and Sally Metcalfe were stood side-by-side on the factory floor contemplating the cut of a lacy teddy that was being worn by one of the chosen models.

"If we cut it higher," Sally pointed to a spot high on the model's hips. "Up to about here."

"And then add that lace trim?"

"I think so."

"Can you sort that out, Sal? Then we'll have another fitting in, say, half hour?"

"Absolutely, Mrs Connor."

As Sally led the model away, Carla looked around for the next model to be fitted but spied instead Simon lurking in the shadows of the factory's entrance.

"Si!" Carla motioned Simon to join her. "What's up?"

"I dunno," Simon rammed his hands into his pockets as he stood nervously, shuffling his feet from side-to-side. "Did you, umm, did you need a hand with anything?"

"Simon Barlow!" Carla feigned shock at Simon's offer. "Are you actually volunteering for work? Are you sure you're feeling alright? Not come down with summat have you?"

Carla laughed and reached out to feel Simon's forehead, as if testing for a temperature; Simon knocked her hand away, embarrassed.

"Stop it!" For a moment Simon was a sulky teen before he remembered why he was there. "I just want to help out, that's all."

"Hmm… I might have a job for you. Come with me."

As Carla led the way towards the office, Simon's eyes scoured the factory floor, searching for something, maybe someone.

"In you go," Carla motioned Simon inside the office. "Sit down."

Simon obediently sat in the office chair pointed out by Carla while she pulled a heavy file from the shelf behind her desk and plonked it down in front of him.

"In here is all the product information for every item we're going to be selling," Carla explained. "There's different entries for different styles, colours and sizes. Everything from sizing, measurements, fabric composition and care, style, fit, the whole lot. Obviously, some things are repeated, like fabrics and care instructions, I'll leave you to figure out where you can copy and paste."

"Copy and paste…" Simon was confused. "Where?"

Carla leaned over Simon and opened an Excel spreadsheet on her computer.

"Here."

Simon stared at the screen in dismay; he glanced out of the glass office windows and onto the factory floor where he could see a hive of activity; models and seamstresses, stylists and PR specialists. That's where he wanted to be, not stuck in front of a computer.

"You want me to type out this…" Simon patted the file of handwritten notes. "Into this." He pointed at the screen.

"I knew your computer skills would come in handy one day."

"But this is data entry."

"First rule of being a worker, Si," Carla couldn't help but smirk. "Every job, even in the glamorous fashion industry, has its boring parts."

"But –"

"Do you want to work here or not?" Carla was suddenly serious.

"Yes."

"Good. If you've got any questions, I'll be out on the floor."

Carla left the office without a backwards glance; if Simon was serious about working at Underworld, this would be the perfect opportunity for him to prove it.

* * *

Carla rummaged through the piles of papers that were strewn across the desk in her home office, her mobile tucked between her ear and her shoulder.

"I'm sure it's here somewhere," as she flicked through a sheaf of papers. "Oi! I have a system!"

_Bzzz_

The penthouse security buzzer.

"I'll find it! I have to go, someone's at the door."

Carla picked up the security intercom.

"(into the phone) Hold on a minute…(into the intercom) Hello?...Oh, okay, come up…(into the phone) I gotta go, it's Johnny…Yes, I will find it, I've got a system! Goodbye!"

Carla hung up the phone and unlatched the front door while she continued her search through the paperwork on her desk.

"Knock knock," came Johnny's voice through the front door that was standing ajar.

"Come in."

Johnny followed Carla's order and entered his daughter's new home for the first time, pushing Susie in her pram.

"I'm in here."

Johnny followed the sound of Carla's voice.

"Hi," Johnny stood awkwardly at the door of the study.

"Hello, sweetheart," Carla cooed at Susie laying in the pram. "Did you have fun with granddad?"

"We've had a great time. Thanks for letting me see her."

"Of course," Carla shot Johnny a confused look. "You're her granddad."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for some fashion week paperwork. I know it's in here somewhere."

Johnny looked askance at the mess of papers.

"You need some kind of filing system."

"Not you too," Carla scowled at Johnny. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought Peter was picking her up?"

"Yeah, umm…" Johnny suddenly regretted coming. "Peter thought I might like to have a look at your new flat."

"Did he now? And he said he'd be here?"

"Yeah."

Carla strode to the entrance of the bedroom wing and called out for Peter.

"Peter!"

But there was no answer.

"Peter! Are you home?"

Nothing.

"I dunno where he is," Carla turned back to Johnny with a shrug of her shoulders. "He's probably ducked out to the hardware store or summat. Did you want to wait?"

"I don't want to put you to any trouble…?"

"No trouble. Have a seat."

"Thanks," Johnny sat down awkwardly on the sofa. "Where's Jamie?"

"You remembered you got another granddaughter, did you?" Carla couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice.

"I know I've been a lousy granddad lately," Johnny spoke with sincerity. "And a lousy dad."

Carla looked at Johnny hopefully and waited for him to continue.

"For a while, I dunno, after Aidan…" Johnny's voice faltered.

"You don't have to explain," Carla jumped in, wanting to spare Johnny more pain in reliving the past. "I understand."

"Do you?"

"I understand what grief can do to a person."

"I want to make it up to everyone, to make things right. I just… I don't know how."

"You could start by dropping the custody case."

"Nothing's changed there."

"You just said you wanted to make things right."

"And making sure Eva loses any rights she has over Susie will be making things right."

"Eva is her mother."

"Eva abandoned her," Johnny was vehement; in this matter, Johnny saw only black and white. "Susie deserves better."

"Eva is grieving. Surely you understand that?"

"I don't understand you, Carla. How can you make excuses for her? A mother, a real mother, wouldn't abandon her baby like Eva has."

"It's not easy, you know, doing it on your own. I know as well as anyone how hard it is being a single mother."

"Your situation was completely different to Eva's."

"I didn't have Peter just like Eva doesn't have Aidan."

"But you never abandoned Jamie, did you?"

Carla sighed; she was terrified of what Johnny would think of her if he knew the truth, if he knew what she'd done. But if it helped him to understand, to sympathise with Eva, then maybe he needed to know.

"Carla?"

* * *

**April 2015…**

"Please stop crying," Carla sobbed as she bounced a screaming almost five-month-old Jamie on her shoulder. "Please stop, I can't..."

But Jamie didn't stop; if anything, her cries only got louder and, as Jamie's distress increased, so did Carla's torment.

"What's wrong with you? I don't know what to do. What do you want? Please…" Carla begged her daughter for a reprieve. "Please… please stop crying."

"Waa…! Waa…! Waah…!"

"Stop it. Please stop crying. Please."

"Waah…!"

"Please be quiet. Please. For mummy?"

"Waa… Waa… Waah…!"

"Shut up," at first no more than a whisper from Carla, then... "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!"

Silence.

Jamie had suddenly stopped crying. Carla stared at her daughter in horror, mortified that she had yelled at her precious baby girl.

"I'm sorry," Carla gasped, shocked at what she had done and terrified of what she might do. "I'm so sorry."

With trembling hands, Carla gingerly placed Jamie into her Moses basket; she backed away from the infant quietly, careful not to disturb her any more than she had already done.

"I'm sorry," Carla whispered, before grabbing her keys from the kitchen counter and rushing out of the flat. She slammed into the stairwell door and, as she began to run down the stairs, the floodgates opened and the tears poured from Carla's eyes and down her cheeks.

Blinded by her tears, Carla exited the stairwell on the ground floor and ran straight into another resident.

"Watch where you're going!" Carla shouted, not seeing, knowing or even caring who she'd just careered into.

"Carla?" Nick held her gently by her elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Carla tried to shake off Nick's grip. "Let go!"

"Calm down, okay."

"I! AM! CALM!"

Carla's outburst had the instant effect of soothing her; she regained enough composure to comprehend what had just happened.

"Oh my god, Nick, what have I done?"

"Carla, please, just tell me what's wrong."

"Jamie…"

"Where's Jamie?"

"She's… Oh my god." Carla looked up at Nick, her eyes pleading with him to help her. "She's upstairs."

"In the flat?"

Carla nodded.

"Who's with her?"

Carla's face crumpled as she began to sob once more.

"Carla? Who's with Jamie?"

"No one," Carla could barely bring herself to say the words, to confess her neglect. "Oh my god, Nick, I left her on her own."

"It's okay," Nick took Carla by the hand and led her back inside. "It'll be fine. Let's go up and check on her, yeah?"

Carla nodded, silently handing control of the situation over to Nick.

"Everything's going to be just fine, okay?"

* * *

Carla could hear her daughter crying as Nick, having taken Carla's keys from her hand, unlocked the door and let them both into the flat.

Carla stood in the doorway as she watched Nick stride to the Moses basket and confidently pick up Jamie, cradling her in his arms, soothing her, rocking her. Soon enough, Jamie had stopped crying and was gazing up at Nick, at this newcomer who seemed to know exactly what she needed.

"There we go," Nick gazed back down at Jamie, instantly enchanted by her chubby cheeks, her fat little fingers that she waved in the air, grasping up at this unknown face, and the strange yet adorable gurgling sounds coming from her throat. "Everything's okay now, isn't it?"

Carla approached the pair tentatively, scared of upsetting her daughter again.

"You have to teach me your secret."

"You don't need any lessons on how to be mum," Nick reassured her.

"She wouldn't stop crying," Carla was desperate to explain. "And I just, I didn't know what to do. She just, she wouldn't stop."

"You look exhausted," Nick reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Carla's face.

"I am."

"Why don't you have a lie down, have a rest. I'll look after Jamie for a few hours."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course."

"What about the bistro? Don't you have to work?"

"What's the use in owning your own business if you can't chuck a sickie every now and then?"

"If you're sure?"

"I am."

"I umm… I might go out instead? Get some fresh air." Carla looked at Nick pleadingly. "You can go a bit stir crazy being stuck inside with a baby, you know, day in, day out."

"Whatever you need."

Carla gathered up her jacket and handbag, eager to make her escape. She stood close to Nick and gazed down at Jamie who had by now fallen asleep in his arms.

"Bye bye my angel." Carla gently stroked Jamie's head, her stomach flipping at the feel of those fuzzy tufts of dark hair that her daughter wore like a crown. "You be good for your uncle Nick." She leaned in and kissed Jamie softly on her forehead. "Mummy loves you so much."

Carla tore herself away from Jamie and turned to the door, knowing she had to go, to get some space; at this moment, it was the only way she could be a good mother to her daughter.

Pausing at the door, she turned and took in the sight of Nick holding her daughter with such ease, such natural confidence, and knew she was in safe hands.

"Thank you."

With that, Carla walked away.

* * *

Johnny listened to Carla's story sympathetically; he knew all too well the pressures of being a new parent and tried his best to reassure his daughter.

"I wouldn't be too hard on yourself, Carla. It's understandable that you needed a break. Everyone needs a break now and then."

"Johnny, you don't understand…"

"Understand what?"

Carla began to fidget; she really didn't want to tell Johnny the truth, to see the judgement in his eyes, but this was the only way she could think of to show some solidarity with Eva.

"Carla, what is it?"

"I, umm… I didn't go back for three days."

"Oh."

"I know it sounds terrible and you probably think I'm an awful mother for doing that but, you have no idea how much I needed that break and… when I think of what might've happened if I hadn't… If Nick hadn't been there. Or if he'd called the Social… I could've lost her. So, you see, I totally understand what Eva's done. And I know she hasn't left because she doesn't love Susie, the opposite in fact. She's left because she loves her and she wants to do what's right by her."

"You're a good mother, Carla."

Carla was temporarily speechless at hearing this unexpected praise from her father.

"I mean it," Johnny was sincere. "Jamie is lucky to have you as a mum."

"Thank you," Carla blinked away the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"And I'll think about it."

"About?"

"Eva."

"You mean, you'll consider dropping the custody case?"

"I can't promise anything."

"Just think about it, that's all I ask."

* * *

Carla shut the front door of the penthouse behind Johnny and turned around, lost in thought, grateful and hopeful after her conversation with her father.

"Hey."

Carla jumped, startled at the realisation she wasn't alone in the flat.

"Peter! You scared me."

"Sorry."

"I didn't know you were home."

"I was doing some work on the balcony."

"Didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Sorry, I had my headphones in… at first."

"I see."

"I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying to Johnny."

"Right."

"I never knew." Peter didn't have to tell Carla what he was talking about. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, it wasn't my finest hour, was it?"

"I'm not judging you."

"Good. Because you're in no position to judge anyone on their parenting abilities. Not with your track record!"

Carla regretted her outburst as soon as the words had left her mouth.

"I'm sorry, Peter, I didn't mean..."

"It's okay, I deserved it."

"No, you didn't." Carla stepped close to Peter and, gripping the collar of his polo shirt, pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Because, whatever mistakes you made in the past, you've more than made up for them now."

"Thank you." Peter reached his arms around Carla's waist and kissed her back. "What you were telling Johnny, is that when you and Nick, you know, started… getting close?"

"Yes."

"I always wondered what attracted you to him. But I get it."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I mean, he was someone you could lean on, someone you could rely on."

"It was a little bit more than that."

"Sure, I didn't mean… Can you tell me one thing?"

"What?"

"Was he good with her? Nick, I mean, with Jamie?"

"Yeah, he was. He adored her."

Those words were hard for Peter to hear; to know that another man had taken on the role of father to his daughter, had taken on his responsibilities when he'd relinquished them. Especially that man. But he needed to hear it, to understand how much he'd let his family down. He vowed to himself then and there that he'd never disappoint them again; that, for better or worse, he would always be there.

"I'm sorry that he had to step up like that. That I didn't. I should've been there."

"Peter, please don't, not this again. It's done with. Ancient history."

"But what I put you through…"

"You're here now. That's all that matters."

"I don't deserve that, but thank you."

Peter pulled Carla in close and they stood there for a time, wrapped in each other's arms, safe and secure, the past behind them, the future stretching out before them, a horizon filled only with love and happiness.

"Hey," Carla was the first to break the spell. "What were you doing out on the balcony?"

"Come on, I'll show you."

Carla took the hand Peter held out to her and followed him onto the balcony where he pointed proudly to one of the side brick walls.

"Umm…" Carla looked at the wall but couldn't quite figure out what Peter had done. "What am I looking at?"

"See these?" Peter pointed out a series of horizontal railings that had been drilled into the wall.

"Yeah…?"

"All along these railings, I'm gonna hang these," Peter picked up a metal hook and inserted it into a railing. "And then…" He picked up a small plastic pot. "These go on the hooks."

"Right…"

"Imagine rows and rows of these pots, filled with plants," Peter enthused. "The whole wall full of plants. And once they've grown, you won't see the pots, it'll be all green. A green wall!"

Carla smiled at Peter's enthusiasm; his desire to make their home beautiful.

"I love it."

"Really?"

Carla stood close behind Peter and, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissed him softly on the cheek.

"Really."

Their moment was soon interrupted by a cry from inside; Susie had woken up.

"I'll go."

Peter regretfully tore himself away from Carla's embrace and went inside to tend to Susie, leaving Carla alone to reflect on the confession she'd made earlier to Johnny.

Three days. Three days away from her daughter. Looking back, she couldn't understand how she'd been able to bear it.

* * *

Carla stood with more than a little trepidation outside the door to her flat. She breathed in deeply before exhaling slowly, calming herself, preparing herself to face the music. With a sigh, she slid the key into the lock, turned it and pushed the door open.

It took Nick a few moments to realise Carla had come home; she watched as he spun around the kitchen, Jamie in his arms, gazing up at him, giggling as she flew through the air.

"Whee…!" Nick laughed at the look of excitement on Jamie's face, but the laughter died on his lips when he saw Carla stood at the door.

"Hi," Carla greeted him tentatively, suddenly fearful of his reaction; but she needn't have worried.

"Look who it is, Jamie!" Nick held Jamie so that she was looking at Carla. "Mummy's home!"

Carla took a few uncertain steps towards Nick and Jamie; Nick quickly closed the gap and held Jamie out to her. Carla took her daughter in her arms and held her close, breathing in the scent of her, thrilling to the warmth of her little body pressed against hers.

"Hey, baby girl." Carla kissed Jamie softly. "I missed you so much, darling."

Carla looked up at Nick; she wondered how she could ever fully express her gratitude to him.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Nick reassured Carla while stroking Jamie's head softly. "We've had fun, haven't we, Jamie?"

"Did you, umm… did you call anyone?"

"If you mean Social Services, then no, of course not."

Carla breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

"Listen, I was just about to cook dinner so, why don't you have a shower, freshen up, and it'll be ready when you get out."

"You don't have to cook me dinner."

"I was going to cook for myself anyway, so…"

"If you're sure. Thanks."

"Here," Nick held out his arms to Jamie. "I'll put her down in her basket."

Carla handed Jamie over to Nick and turned towards the bedroom.

"Carla, I, umm…"

Carla turned back to Nick, a quizzical look on her face.

"I thought it'd be better to keep Jamie in her own home, so, umm… I've been sleeping here."

Carla smiled and nodded. "Okay."

"So, there might be some of my stuff in your bedroom and your bathroom…"

"It's fine."

Carla smiled to herself, amazed at how much could change in just three days. Three days earlier she would never have guessed that Nick of all people would have become not only a trusted confidante but seemingly also her daughter's favourite babysitter.

* * *

Carla finished wiping down the kitchen counter before rinsing the cloth, wringing it out and hanging it over the tap.

"I could've cleared up, you know."

Carla looked across at Nick as he sat on one of her barstools, a glass of wine in his hand.

"What? After you'd cooked me that delicious dinner? No chance!"

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Are you kidding me? I live off microwave meals as a rule."

"I've really enjoyed looking after Jamie these past few days."

Carla smiled at Nick, her very own Mary Poppins.

"It must be hard doing it on your own," Nick observed.

"It is," Carla agreed. "Serves me right, I should've picked her out a better daddy."

"What would you have looked for? If you were gonna choose her a dad?"

"I dunno… Someone like you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah!" Carla laughed at Nick's modesty. "Come on, Nick, you're a natural."

"I dunno about that." Nick suddenly turned philosophical. "I do know that I've always wanted kids. A family. I took it for granted that it would happen for me someday. But, every time I get close and think, yes, this is it, it all falls apart."

"I'm sorry."

"I guess I'm just as bad as you in picking out partners."

Carla's laughter soon died out, replaced by an awkward silence, one in which both of them suddenly felt very conscious of the other person's presence.

"I better go."

Nick reluctantly put his wine glass down and rose to his feet; Carla retrieved Nick's jacket from the rack and handed it to him.

"It's late so, umm, I'll come collect my things tomorrow, if that's okay with you?"

"Sure, whatever suits. Listen, Nick, thank you again for everything. I honestly don't know how I would've coped without you."

"Like I said, I've enjoyed it. Jamie… well, she's a perfect little angel."

Carla didn't know what possessed her; gratitude, maybe, too much wine over dinner, highly likely, but nonetheless she found herself leaning in to Nick and kissing him softly on the lips. It was the briefest of kisses; the pressure of her lips against his broke the spell and they both pulled away, embarrassed and confused about what had just happened.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye."

Nick turned to go; his hand was on the door handle when he looked back at Carla; she looked at him. As if moving with one thought, one desire, they flew to each other and, holding each other tightly, kissed passionately.

* * *

Nick never did collect his things the next day, Carla reflected. From that moment, they had become inseparable; Nick automatically assumed the dual role of Jamie's father and Carla's lover.

She wondered whether things would've worked out between them if she hadn't slept with Robert. She would never know the answer to that question, but couldn't help but be glad it had happened; Robert, the break up with Nick, the pain of losing him, running away to Devon for a fresh start, everything.

Because all of those things had led her to where she was right now; standing on the balcony of the home she shared with the love of her life. Nick wasn't the right man for her; he never had been, not really. It had always been Peter. Always would be Peter.

She shivered; the cold of the waning day had crept up on her. She stepped inside, into the warmth of her home, and shut the door firmly on the cold, leaving it outside where it belonged.


	29. Chapter 29: Blurred lines

**Chapter 29: Blurred lines**

Carla had barely placed the plate down onto the table before three hands, each of a different size, reached out to claim their share of the spoils. Sitting around the kitchen table of their new penthouse apartment, Peter, Simon and Jamie hungrily broke their fast with the freshly toasted bread Carla had just brought to them.

But it wasn't until Carla had poured Jamie a glass of milk, Simon some juice, Peter and herself mugs of strong black coffee, and prepared Susie's bottle, that she herself sat down to join in on the family meal.

With one arm expertly feeding baby Susie, her little body propped up in the crook of Carla's elbow, while her hand gripped the bottle, Carla was free to sip her coffee with her free hand. Peter helpfully spread a piece of toast with butter and jam and raised it to Carla's lips; she hungrily took a great bite out of it before washing it down with a gulp of coffee.

"Thanks, baby."

With the family's tummy's taken care of, Carla was able to focus on the never-ending mindless chatter coming from the mouth of her daughter, Jamie.

"We got four chicks," Jamie was explaining about the baby chicks that her nursery room leader had brought in for the children to care for. "Two yellow ones, a black one, and a tiger one."

"A tiger one?" Simon scrunched up his nose in disbelief. "You can't have a tiger chicken!"

"Can too!" Jamie retorted.

"Don't be stupid!"

"Simon!" Peter remonstrated with his son. "Don't!" He turned to his daughter kindly. "Sweetheart, why is it called a tiger chick?"

"Because it's got black stripes," Jamie said matter-of-fact. "Like a tiger."

"Fair enough," Peter replied, smiling at Carla indulgently.

"Can we get some chicks, mummy?"

"What? Here in the flat?"

"Uh huh," Jamie nodded, in full expectation of being granted her wish.

"Ooh, I don't know, darling," Carla floundered for an excuse that Jamie wouldn't argue with. "Snowy, umm… he might think they're his breakfast."

Jamie's eyes widened in horror at the thought of her precious cat eating her imaginary chickens. "He eat them!? Bad Snowy!"

"What about you, Si?" Carla was anxious to change the subject, fearful of being forced to add 'clean out chicken coop' to her list of daily chores. "What are you up to today?"

"Dunno," Simon shrugged noncommittally.

"Well, if you're at a loose end, why don't you help me out at Underworld?"

"I ain't gonna be your slave labour again," Simon protested vehemently. "It took me ages to enter all that stuff into the computer last time."

"I know minimum wage isn't much," Carla began, with a cheeky glance at Peter. "But it's hardly slave labour."

"Minimum wage…?" Simon peered at Carla through furrowed brows. "Do you mean…?"

"Me and your dad have talked about it and we've decided to let you work part-time at Underworld."

"On the strict condition," Peter interjected. "That it doesn't interfere with your homework. If your grades drop –"

"They won't," Simon hastened to reassure his dad. "I promise. I'll work extra hard."

"You better hurry up and finish your breakfast then. Manchester Fashion Week is in two days time, so it's all hands on deck at the factory."

Simon quickly scoffed the rest of his toast and downed his juice in his eagerness to get to work.

"Easy, Si," Peter stared at Simon in amusement. "You don't wanna choke before you even start."

But Simon wasn't listening; he excused himself from the table before hurrying to get ready for his first proper day at work.

"What about you, baby?" Carla turned to Peter hopefully. "What are you up to today? I really could use as much help as I can get."

"Sorry, love," Peter gave Carla a peck on the lips as way of apology and tickled Susie's tummy. "But me and Susie are going to be busy all day long."

"Oh, yeah? Doing what?"

"Well, we are going to walk Jamie to nursery, then we're going to playgroup." Peter waved his finger in Susie's face; her little hands with their chubby little fingers clutched at his finger, grasping it tightly in her little fist as she giggled in delight. "We're going to see all your little friends, aren't we?"

"And then…?"

"I think a bit of lunch and then, I dunno, maybe an afternoon nap?"

"For both of you, I take it?"

"Of course," Peter grinned; his afternoon naps with Susie were the favourite part of his day. "Any requests for dinner?"

"Jamie?" Carla turned to her daughter, who had slipped down from her chair and was now playing on the floor with her toys.

"Yes, mummy!" Jamie peered up at Carla.

"What did you want for dinner?"

"Umm…" Jamie thought hard about it, but her answer came as no surprise to her parents; they knew her favourite meal, she never requested anything different. "Skabetti!"

"With meatballs?"

"Yeah!" Jamie whooped enthusiastically.

Carla turned back to Peter, a smile of contentment on her face. "Spaghetti with meatballs it is."

* * *

"In here."

Carla led Simon into a space in the packing department of Underworld where a table had been set up next to a stack of boxes.

"What I need you to do is make up the gift bags."

"Gift bags? For who?"

"Everyone who attends the show will receive one of these bags. Now, these boxes here," Carla patted the relevant boxes. "Are the bags themselves. They've been branded with the Underworld logo. And then into each bag you need to put one of each of these..."

Carla handed Simon a list of gift bag contents.

"Underworld catalogue," Simon read the list out loud. "Fabric swatches, makeup gift, skincare gift, jewellery gift." Simon looked up at Carla curiously. "You're giving all this stuff away for free?"

"It's what people expect, Si." Carla said bluntly. "Luckily, the gifts we didn't actually pay for; the brands give us the products at no charge. It's kind of like free advertising for them. So, we only have to pay for the bags, the swatches and the catalogue. Mind you, the catalogue cost a bomb, but I wanted something really flash for our first show. Have you seen it yet?"

Simon shook his head; Carla opened one of the boxes and pulled out a copy of the catalogue to show Simon.

"See what I mean?"

"Yeah!" Simon handled the catalogue gingerly. "It's like a proper book, like one of those, what are they called? Coffee table books."

Carla looked proudly over Simon's shoulder as he flicked through the pages of the catalogue, with its conceptual artistic photography, its quality heavyweight matte paper, its sleek graphic design.

"So," Carla brought them back to the task at hand. "Can I leave this to you?"

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Carla questioned Underworld's lead designer, Jeremy, as they took a breather between fittings.

"I'm calm," Jeremy said, letting out a long sigh. "For now."

Jeremy smiled nervously at Carla; of course he wanted the show to be a success for her sake, for the sake of the business, but designing was such a personal thing for him, a fashion show was like giving something of himself to the world, the fear of being rejected was always lurking in the back of his mind, that he was constantly on edge in the lead-up to a show.

"You do know the collection is stunning? _Your_ collection." Carla squeezed his arm gently, reassuring him.

Jeremy blinked furiously; he refused to be overwhelmed by the emotion bubbling away just below the surface. There was no time for that, not yet, not while there was work left to do.

"Right!" In a flash, Jeremy reverted back to business as usual. "Who's next?"

Carla checked her list and called out for the next model.

"Keira!"

"Hi," Keira greeted them in her soft voice as she walked into the fitting area that had been set up on the factory floor.

"Hi, Keira," Carla greeted the young model. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you."

Jeremy held out to Keira the hangers with her 'look' for the show; a cute romper suit made from a soft and stretchy mustard-yellow, black and cream fabric in a bold botanical pattern. She took the outfit from the designer and proceeded behind the curtain to get changed.

"What's her shoe size?" Jeremy asked Carla.

"Umm…" Carla checked her clipboard. "Seven."

Jeremy picked out a pair of shoes and handed them to Keira as she stepped out of the changing area.

Soon Keira was wearing the chosen shoes, along with earrings, with her hair hastily styled, and the garment pinned so it fitted her just so.

Carla and Jeremy stood back to admire the overall effect.

"Well?" Carla looked across to Jeremy for his final approval.

Jeremy stood for the longest time simply staring at Keira before answering.

"Perfect."

* * *

Simon sat in front of the long trestle table, assembling the gift bags like an automaton. He knew Carla was testing him, making him do the boring, unglamorous tasks; making sure he was committed to the job before giving him something more interesting to do. That is, he hoped that was what she was doing. He was happy to do it, happy to prove himself, even if he was about to fall asleep from the tedium.

"Knock knock."

Simon turned around; a smile, both broad and spontaneous, spread over his face as he recognised his visitor.

"Hey Keira," Simon silently cursed as he felt the flush spread across his cheeks. "What are you doing here?"

"I just had my final fitting for the show," Keira explained as she sauntered over to the table, her eyes sweeping over the assortment of goods ready to be placed into bags. "What's all this?"

"The gift bags for the show."

"You helping out your… what is she? Your step-mum?"

"I guess that's what she is. But I'm not helping out," Simon clarified proudly. "I'm working here now. At Underworld."

"Really?" Keira looked impressed. "So, we're colleagues now?"

"Yeah," Simon nodded enthusiastically. "I guess we are."

"Ooh," Keira spotted the pile of catalogues on the table and picked one up. "Have you had a look yet?"

"Just a quick flick through."

"Did you see me?" Keira opened the catalogue precisely; she had seen the catalogue before and had memorised on which pages her image appeared. "Look!" She showed Simon a picture of herself, one in a group of models, before flicking to another page, then another, where individual photographs of herself adorned the printed page.

"Wow!"

"I know right!?" Keira couldn't contain her excitement.

"You look amazing," Simon couldn't help but stare at Keira, the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

Keira looked back at him and smiled self-consciously, dropping her eyes under his intense gaze, her eyelashes creating bewitching shadows on her cheeks.

* * *

"Carla," Roy peered at Carla over the counter with an inquisitive look. "What can I get you?"

"Can I please get a ham on rye with mustard, two chicken salads on white, mayo on one, not on the other, umm…" Carla looked down the list and decided, in the interests of efficiency, handing the list over to Roy would make more sense. "Here, why don't you take this?"

Roy silently scanned the list, calculating the total cost in his head.

"Don't worry, Roy, they're not all for me. I'm feeding the troops over at the factory."

"Busy with the preparations for fashion week, I take it?"

Carla turned around; Maria was stood in line behind her, her eyes narrow and hostile.

"Oh, Maria," Carla pleaded with a sigh. "How many times do I have to tell you, the decision wasn't personal."

"How can it not be personal? We've known each other for years, Carla. You know I can do the job."

"Maria, it's not a question of whether you can do the job." Carla tried to phrase her words in a way that Maria wouldn't find offensive. "But this is fashion week, you know, where the make-up and the hair, it, well… it needs to be a bit more…"

"More what?" Maria demanded, with raised eyebrow and hand on hip.

"Cutting edge. Avant-garde."

"And you think a back-street hairdresser that specialises in the blue-rinse brigade doesn't keep up with the latest trends? Because I do! I can do avant-garde! I can do whatever you want!"

Carla shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry, Maria, I don't know what to say."

"Forget it!" Maria turned and stormed out of Roys.

"Maria?" Roy called after her.

"I'm sorry, Roy, I'm scaring off your customers."

Carla regretted Maria's anger, but what could she do? She had to hire the right stylists for the job. And Audrey's… well, Audrey's was not it. She forced herself to put Maria out of her mind; she had more important things to worry about.

Her 'to do' list for fashion week seemed to get longer as time became shorter. Two days. In two days she would be walking down that runway with Jeremy; in two days they would know if all of their labours, and Aidan's, had been successful or… She couldn't contemplate the alternative. Only time would reveal the truth.

* * *

Peter rolled over in bed and instinctively reached out to embrace Carla, to pull her body close to his for a morning cuddle. But instead of the soft warmth of Carla's skin, his hand instead felt the coolness of the sheets on her side of the bed.

Picking up his mobile from the bedside table, Peter rubbed his eyes, his vision slowly clearing so that he could focus on the screen, on the time: 5am.

* * *

Carla stood in the pre-dawn light, staring out into the dark from the balcony of the penthouse, thinking about the day ahead, the day she'd planned for so long, dreamed of for so long.

She gasped in surprise as she felt his arms slip around her waist from behind before relaxing into his embrace, soothed by the familiarity of his touch, of his scent.

"You're up early," Peter whispered as he nuzzled her neck.

"Hmm…" Carla murmured. "I couldn't sleep."

"It's a big day for you."

"Thanks for reminding me."

Carla leaned her head back as he kissed her shoulder softly, then her neck, her cheek, his arms pulling her in close to him.

"I'll be right there with you, you know that?"

"I know."

"Whatever you need, I'm there."

Carla turned around to face Peter; his arms never let go of her, his hands ran up and down her back, stroking her, comforting her.

"Thank you."

Carla reached out to him, stroking his cheek gently. "You know what I need right now?"

"What's that?"

"This."

Carla leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. She pulled back from him, the smallest amount, before kissing him again, more urgently this time. Her tongue swept across his lips as hers parted, sucking gently on his lower lip, her hands clasped around the back of his head, her fingers raking through his hair. Peter's hands roamed over her back, brushing through her hair and gliding down her back to rest on her arse, squeezing her cheeks gently.

And so, for a fleeting moment, Carla forgot about the fashion show, about the months of planning and effort, about the million and one tasks she would have to complete before show time, and lost herself completely in Peter's kiss.

* * *

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Carla pounded on the door of the Rovers. She knew it was early, that Johnny and Jenny would still be in bed after a late closing the night before, but she had to speak to her father now, this couldn't wait.

"Alright! Alright! Keep your hair on!"

Carla heard Johnny's voice, his irritation clear despite being muffled through the wood and the glass that was separating them, as he slid the bolts back angrily and pulled the door open.

"What are you doing here?" Johnny barked as he peered out at Carla through eyes still half asleep. "Isn't it your show today?"

"Yeah, it is. Peter and Simon are packing the van right now," Carla explained. "They'll be along any minute to pick me up."

"What about the kids, where are they?"

"With Ken."

"You know I would've had them here with us? If you'd asked."

"I know, but, umm… I was hoping…"

"What?"

"I'd really like it if you could come to the show. Jenny as well, the both of you. You know, only if you wanted to."

"Oh," Johnny didn't know what to say. "I'm not sure we could arrange cover for the Rovers at such short notice. Sorry."

"Of course." Carla tried to hide her disappointment. "I should've given you more notice, I just… I didn't know…"

"Yeah," Johnny assented sadly. He didn't need Carla to finish her sentence; he knew how his recent behaviour would have left her feeling unsure of his feelings towards her.

"In case you can, you know, get cover, I'll, umm, I'll leave your names on the door."

_Beep beep!_

Peter and Simon had pulled up outside the Rovers in the Underworld van; with engine idling, they waited patiently for Carla to finish her conversation.

"Okay," Johnny nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Carla, Peter and Simon stood at the entrance to the fashion week venue allocated to Underworld and gazed in awe at the activity that surrounded them; the chairs being arranged either side of the runway, the end that was left empty, reserved for the photographers that would, fingers crossed, take the images that would be beamed across the world; the large-scale photographs, two metres tall, that had been taken from the Underworld catalogue and blown up, along with the bespoke lighting designed to show them off, that were being erected in the entrance area; the flowers, the tables that would soon be groaning under the weight of champagne and finger food; the DJ booth; everything.

"It's really happening!" Carla couldn't quite believe it; everything she had worked for, no – everything she and Aidan had worked for, was coming to life before her eyes.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," Peter said lovingly, as he wrapped an arm around Carla's waist, giving her an encouraging squeeze.

"Right, Si," Carla instructed, snapping back into super-efficient mode. "First things first, those gift bags, can you put one on each of the chairs, and any that are left over, put them underneath the table at the entrance."

"No probs!" With that, Simon was away to do his job.

"What do you want me to do?" Peter looked at Carla, waiting for his orders.

"Can you keep an eye on things out here? Make sure everything's set up in the right place – you've got the plans?"

"Yep!" Peter waved a folder in the air.

"Good," Carla nodded, mentally going through her checklist. "If you make sure everyone out here is doing, you know, what they're meant to be doing. Set up in here, the pictures and the lighting, the catering, waiters, what else?"

"Baby, you've been talking about nothing else for weeks," Peter said. "I know what needs doing."

"I know," Carla sighed gratefully. "I know you do. Thank you."

Carla gave Peter a quick kiss, before a familiar voice drifted towards them.

"Praise the lord you are here!" Jeremy rushed towards Carla in a panic. "It's a mess back there!" The designer waved vaguely towards the backstage area. "A complete mess! No one has a clue what they're doing!"

"Let's have a look, yeah?" Carla led Jeremy away with a final look back at Peter, flashing him a quick grateful smile.

* * *

Carla's organisational skills soon had the backstage area ordered, with stations for hair and makeup at one end, the clothing racks lined up along the other in the order they would appear on the runway. Each rack had the model's name clearly marked, the clothes on hangers, the accessories neatly laid out, and reference photographs taped to the rack. Out of the way in another corner, chairs and sofas had been arranged, along with food and drinks, a place for the models to relax while they waited for their turn at hair and makeup.

_Bzzzz Bzzzz_

Carla's mobile vibrated in her back pocket.

"Carla Connor … What? … You can't be serious? … That's not acceptable! … I don't care what happened, you need to be– … Just get yourself here– … No! Now! … Don't you dare, if you–"

Carla removed the phone from her ear; the call had obviously ended, and not in the way she had wanted.

"What's wrong?" Jeremy asked; immediately his panic, always bubbling away close to the surface, threatened to boil over. "What's happened?"

"It's the hair stylists," Carla explained, still in shock and disbelief at the looming disaster. "They've cancelled."

"They can't!"

"They obviously can," Carla retorted. "Because they have. They're not coming!"

"Oh my god," Jeremy began to pace, his hands on his head in despair. "Oh my god, this is a disaster!"

"That's what I like about you, Jeremy." Carla couldn't help but be sarcastic. "Your cheerful optimism."

"How can I be cheerful? Or optimistic? The show is ruined!"

"No, it's not." Carla declared. "Just stick to the plan, I'm gonna fix it."

"How?" Jeremy asked, his eyes wide with near hysteria as he teetered on the edge of a complete breakdown. "How are you going to find new stylists at the last minute? All the good ones are booked! We're gonna look like amateurs!"

"I'm gonna have to eat one huge slice of humble pie, that's how."

* * *

Carla hesitantly pushed open the door of the salon and stepped inside, putting out of her mind the sarky comments the dated décor brought like second nature to the tip of her tongue. She must be desperate, Carla thought to herself, to come here for help.

"Won't be a minute," Maria called out as she put the finishing touches to the intricately curled and starched coiffure of her 80-something client.

Carla waited obediently, uncharacteristically so, until Maria turned around, ostensibly to greet what she thought was a new client.

"What do you want?" Maria turned cold when she saw Carla.

"Umm…" Carla took a deep breath; she knew this wasn't going to go down well. "I know you're gonna think I've got a cheek, but…"

"Spit it out, Carla." Maria waited, arms crossed, exasperation clearly written on her face, for Carla to reveal why she was there, in a two-bit back-street hairdressers.

"My hair stylists have cancelled at the last minute, so…?"

"Oh my god," Maria twigged to what Carla was asking. "You want me to do the hair for your fashion week show? After you slagged me off?"

"I didn't slag –"

"You said I wasn't good enough."

"I said your style was different. I know you're a great stylist, Maria. Why else would I be here?"

"And why should I do you any favours?"

"Don't think of it as a favour to me, think of it as proving me wrong."

"What's going on here?" David swaggered across to the pair who were beginning to cause quite a commotion in what was in reality a very small salon.

"Carla wants us to do the hair for the Underworld fashion show."

"Oh, yeah? When?"

"Now! Today!" Maria was incredulous on David's behalf. "Don't worry, I told her we can't do it."

"Hang on a minute!" David turned to Carla, eager to hear more. "Are you serious about this? You want us? At fashion week?"

"Deadly."

"And what is it you want doing?"

"Here," Carla pulled out her mobile and, opening a photo album, handed it to David. "These are the reference shots from the trials we did last week."

"Well, yeah," David said as he swiped through the reference photographs. "We can do these. Easy as."

"But, David!" Maria objected. "What about our bookings?"

"What about them? Tell them there's a family emergency or summat."

"David –"

"Look, Maria, if you'd rather stay here and put curlers in for old biddies, knock yourself out. Me, I'm going to fashion week!"

Maria sighed emphatically. Despite her outward opposition to the plan, inwardly she was ecstatic; finally, she had a chance to show the world what she could do. "Fine. We'll go. Give us five minutes while we close the salon."

* * *

"How's it going?" Carla asked an obviously buzzing Maria and David as they worked their magic on the models' hair.

"I was born to do this!" David proclaimed, in his element.

"You tell me?" Maria was more cautious, still eager to punish Carla for her lack of belief. "How do _you_ think we're going?"

Carla picked up the reference photograph for the model Maria was working on and then compared it to the real-life version.

"Hmm…" Carla couldn't help herself. "I dunno…" Carla looked up at Maria and almost immediately burst into laughter. "Kidding! I'm kidding! You're doing a fantastic job."

"Carla!"

Carla looked up to see Simon waving her over to where he was stood with two other people, all three of them focused on the laptop screen in front of them.

"Hey," Carla hurried over to them. "I hope I'm not in any of those shots!"

Simon proudly showed Carla a slideshow of still photographs as well as short videos of the pre-show backstage activity that had been captured by the photographer and videographer standing side-by-side next to Simon.

"These are amazing," Carla enthused. "The second video, and… can you bring the photos up as one page of thumbnails?"

The photographer carried out Carla's request; Carla didn't hesitate, she knew what she liked, what would work for her business. She pointed out a handful of photographs. "Those pics plus that video."

"You want them posted?" Simon asked.

"Straight away," Carla was decisive. "You've got the draft text?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just…" Simon's brow furrowed as he stared at Carla. "You want _me_ to do it?"

"Yeah," Carla was matter-of-fact. "This is social media, right? This is what you said you wanted to do?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then do it. I trust you."

* * *

Carla strode to the lobby where her guests were beginning to congregate and made a beeline for the champagne, plucking a flute full of the sparkling nectar from the table and taking a much-needed sip.

"Carla!" A tall, glamourous woman approached Carla, her arms outstretched. "Congratulations! This is wonderful. Just wonderful."

The woman and Carla shared the obligatory greeting kisses, one on each cheek.

"So glad you could make it, Desiree." Carla greeted her warmly. "I hope you came with a blank cheque book?"

"If the product's good," Desiree teased. "I hear you've got Jeremy on board?"

"We do," Carla affirmed. "Only the best at Underworld, don't you know. Excuse me a moment will you?"

Carla quickly stepped to the main entrance where she had spied Johnny and Jenny entering.

"Hi," Carla greeted her father, uncertain of the reception she'd receive.

"Hi, love." Johnny smiled at her warmly.

Carla breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks for coming."

"Ooh, you couldn't keep me away," Jenny interjected gleefully, taking a sip of champagne from the flute she'd swiped moments earlier from a passing waiter. "This is lovely, this is."

Johnny and Carla looked askance at Jenny; they both knew where this giddy mood was likely to end.

"All this, it's…" Johnny looked around him in awe, taking in the magnitude of the event.

"Hi, you two," Peter greeted his almost in-laws as he joined the trio, wrapping his arm around Carla's waist.

"Hi, Peter. I was just saying to Carla this all looks… amazing."

"It's all down to this one," Peter kissed Carla gently on her temple. "Dead smart she is."

"I had a lot of help," Carla nudged Peter playfully in the ribs. "I, umm… I need to mingle for a bit…"

"Oh, don't worry about us, love." Johnny reassured Carla. "We can entertain ourselves."

"I'll see you after?"

"Yeah, of course."

Carla turned to Peter. "Can you…?"

"Don't worry, I'll keep them entertained."

"Love you."

"I know," Peter grinned at Carla. "Now go! Do your thing!"

As Carla sauntered away, Peter couldn't help but give Carla a cheeky slap on the arse.

* * *

Carla rushed backstage; the announcement had been made, the guests were making their way to their seats. The show was about to start.

"Hey," Peter grabbed Carla's hand, pulling her reluctantly towards him. "Come here a minute."

"Peter, I need to go."

"You can spare one minute." Peter reconsidered his first and quickly made a second offer. "Okay, thirty seconds."

"You've got thirty seconds. Go."

"I can't!" Peter exclaimed. "You've put me on the spot!"

"Let's just have a quick snog then."

Carla didn't wait for an answer; she pulled him towards her and kissed him. A sensual kiss, as her tongue glided along the seam of his lips, as his lips opened and nibbled on her lips, his tongue swept across her tongue; a sensual kiss, but a quick kiss.

"I better, umm…" Carla tried to pull away from Peter's embrace, but he held on tight.

"I'm so proud of you," Peter said seriously, looking intently into Carla's eyes. "You deserve all the success that's coming for you tonight, so… enjoy it, okay?"

"Okay," Carla smiled.

"Carla!" An unknown voice calling to her from backstage.

"That's my cue."

* * *

"Okay," Carla cued the model. "Go."

Carla watched as the model walked onto the runway before switching her gaze to the monitor that was beaming the show live to the backstage area.

"That's the last one," Jeremy observed. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Carla smiled at Jeremy, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "You're a star, you know that?"

"I do," Jeremy agreed wholeheartedly. "One that would've burned out a long time ago if it weren't for you."

"You ready to shine, then?"

Carla turned to address the line of models waiting for the final group walk. "On my cue, ladies."

As the final solo model exited the runway on one side, Carla signalled to the first model in the waiting queue to "Go!"; she waited a few seconds before prompting the next model to walk. One-by-one, Carla sent the models onto the runway in a long line. As they exited, they immediately queued on the other side, ready to walk again.

And then, as the final model in the group walk exited the runway and hurried to join the end of the queue to go back onstage, Carla reached out for Jeremy's hand.

Hand-in-hand, the head designer and Underworld boss walked the runway, the models following them, applauding the work of Jeremy and Carla. They couldn't make out the faces of the people in the audience, the stage lights were too bright and the house lights too dim, but they could hear them, they could hear the applause, the acclaim, as they beamed with delight.

* * *

"Love, that was incredible!" Johnny had rushed backstage straight after the show had ended, eager to congratulate his daughter. "Aidan would have been proud."

"Really?" Carla blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes.

"So am I."

Johnny reached out to Carla, embracing her in a warm hug; she stepped into him as if she were a little girl again, desperate for the love of a father she had never known.

"I'm sorry," Johnny whispered in Carla's ear. "I know it wasn't your fault."

"I've got to say, Carla," Jenny had followed Johnny backstage. "These gift bags are very nice, very nice indeed. I say, I hope you do this again, it's like Christmas!"

Carla and Johnny, though the tears in their eyes were still fresh, couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

"I have been listening in on everyone's conversations out there," Peter reported back to Carla.

"There's names for people like you."

"Ha ha," Peter scoffed. "No, I've been trying to gauge the reaction of the audience, you know, see how the collection was received."

"And?" Carla asked eagerly.

"The general consensus is…" Peter couldn't help but string out the reveal.

"Peter!" As always, Carla was impatient.

"Huge success. They loved it."

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"Don't worry, I've learned never to lie to you. So, no, I'm not just saying it. And, yes, they loved it." Peter took Carla's face in his hands and kissed her. "Well done, you."

"I couldn't have done it without your support," Carla thanked him first with a kiss. "Thank you."

"Come on, let's get some of that champagne down your neck!"

"Okay," Carla giggled, taking the hand Peter proffered in hers. "Wait up a minute, I left my phone by the monitors."

Peter began to follow Carla, but his eye was soon caught by something moving in the backstage 'chill' area; that something turned out to be two people; two people who were kissing passionately, oblivious to his and Carla's presence.

"Let's go," Carla jogged back to Peter, but he didn't move or respond in any way. "Peter?"

Peter simply nodded; Carla followed his sight-line.

"Oh my god!" Carla gasped in shock. "Is that?"

"Simon and Keira," Peter confirmed.

"But… I don't…"

"Did you know about this?"

"Of course I didn't! I would've put a stop to it if I had."

"Why?"

"Why?" Carla stared at Peter incredulously. "Because they are both employed by me. I have a duty of care."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I can't be dealing with any sexual harassment claims, Peter."

"Are you suggesting that Simon is capable of, what? Sexually harassing someone?"

"No! Of course not. I just…" Carla struggled to explain her position. "I think it's better to keep work relationships separate from personal relationships. It removes any ambiguity."

Peter didn't look convinced.

"Come on, Peter. You and me both know my disastrous history of mixing business with pleasure. It never works out. Never."

"Love, this is a bit different, don't you think? They're just kids having a bit of fun. Leave them be, yeah? Let them have their fun."

"I can't ignore the rules just because Simon's your son."

"You've got rules against people kissing?"

"Well… no, but –"

"Then leave it." Peter stroked Carla's cheek gently. "This is your moment, baby, you should be out there enjoying it. Okay? Hmm?"

"You're right," Carla nodded in agreement. "I'm overreacting. Let's go party!"


	30. Chapter 30: You've been served - Part I

**Chapter 30: You've been served – Part I**

"Mrs Connor?" Sally called out to her boss through the crack in the office door; she was wary of opening the door to its full extent, not with the mood Carla had been in that day.

"I'm busy, Sal," Carla replied, her gaze remaining fixed on the computer screen in front of her as she interrogated her company's financial statements.

"There's someone here to see you."

"Who is it?" Carla snapped impatiently.

"Mr Hewitt," came the reply from none other than Mr Hewitt himself who pushed past Sally into Carla's office. "Mr Duncan Hewitt."

"I'm sorry, Mrs Connor," Sally began, before being abruptly cut off by Carla.

"It's okay, Sal. Shut the door."

The moment the door clicked securely closed, Carla turned to face the stranger in her office. "So, Mr Duncan Hewitt, how can I help?"

"You need to read these documents very carefully," Mr Hewitt explained as he held out to Carla a sealed A4 buff envelope. "They relate to important legal matters."

"But what are they?" Carla stared in bewilderment at the nondescript man in the cheap shiny suit who was smiling benignly back down at her.

"If you could sign here..." The man held out a record of delivery form to Carla.

"I'd like to know what it is I'm signing for first."

"Everything is explained in the documents," he repeated. "If you could..."

Carla took the record of delivery form out of his hand, almost snatching it in her frustration, and scribbled her name where he indicated.

"Thank you," polite to the end, the man handed Carla the envelope and quietly retreated from the office.

Carla wasted no more time or platitudes on Mr Hewitt; she ripped open the envelope he had given her and pulled out the paperwork that was inside.

Her eyes scanned the page, skim reading at first.

"What the hell!?"

She took a second, closer look.

Carla rose to her feet with such power, her chair flew back against the set of shelves stationed behind her desk. Before her fashion awards statuette had time to stop rocking from the force of the collision, she was out the door and on a mission.

"You're in charge, Sal!" Carla called over her shoulder to the factory floor as she strode towards the factory door.

"What if someone calls, Mrs Connor?" Sally called out after her. "Where shall I say you've gone?"

But Carla didn't respond; she had already slammed through the door and was storming across the cobbles.

* * *

"Thanks for helping me out, Si," Peter called out to his son. Father and son were stood on opposite sides of the living area of the new family home, each armed with paint rollers, trays, drop sheets, ladders; everything they would need to paint the walls.

"S'okay," Simon brushed off his dad's thanks. "Actually," Simon lowered the paint roller and turned to face Peter. "I'm glad to get you alone. I, umm, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's up, Si?" Peter peered curiously at Simon over his shoulder. "You look worried."

"Umm…"

_Slam!_

The front door shook on its frame as it was slammed with a furious force.

"Where is he?!"

Carla's voice boomed into the room moments before she herself stormed in.

"There he is."

Peter and Simon turned to stare at Carla, Peter in bewilderment, Simon in nervous apprehension.

"What's wrong, love?" Peter's immediate concern was to placate Carla; he knew full well how volatile she could be when riled.

"Why don't we ask him?" Carla glared at Simon. "Hmm…? Got something you wanted to tell us?"

"Umm…" Simon was lost for words.

"Si?" Peter turned his questioning gaze to his son. "What's she talking about?"

"I – I don't –" Simon stammered.

"Carla?" Peter appealed. "Can someone please tell me what's going on."

"I've just been served with legal papers," Carla revealed dramatically, holding the incriminating paperwork in the air as evidence.

"Legal… What?" Peter asked in confusion. "What has that got to do with Si?"

"Simon." Carla addressed her step-son directly. "Would you care to explain to your dad why Keira's parents are suing Underworld?"

But Simon couldn't, or wouldn't answer; he simply hung his head.

"Si?" Peter looked at his son with sudden concern.

"Well?" Carla was impatient. "We're waiting."

"Hey!" Peter glared at Carla in condemnation. "Give him a chance to talk." He turned a kindly gaze on Simon. "Come on, Si, it's okay."

Simon slowly lifted his head and looked at his dad. "Keira's pregnant."

"She's what?" Whatever Peter was expecting, Simon's declaration of impending fatherhood was not it.

"She's pregnant." Now that the truth was out, Simon's courage to speak grew. "And, yes, it's mine."

"Oh, Si…" Peter looked with compassion at his son, before suddenly remembering Carla's words. "Hang on, I don't understand. What has this got to do with Underworld?"

"Keira's claiming that Simon used his position at Underworld to coerce her into sleeping with him," Carla explained.

"It's not true!" Simon declared adamantly.

"That doesn't matter, Si." Carla rounded on the lad. "The allegation alone is enough to damage the business. You should've been more professional."

"Oi!" Peter barked. "Stop it!"

"Peter! This could destroy my business."

"It's all about business with you, isn't it?!" Peter sneered at Carla.

"No, I'm just saying –"

"My son is going to be a dad and all you can think about is how it's going to affect your business."

"I'm not," Simon's voice was lost amongst the bickering.

"That's not all I'm thinking about, but Peter, you know –"

"What did you say, Si?"

"I said I'm not going to be a dad."

"But, you just said…"

"Keira's having an abortion."

* * *

"Can they sue someone for… you know?" Peter questioned Carla as he paced the living room floor. "Surely they'd get the police involved if there's a case to answer?"

"I don't know," Carla replied in exasperation from where she sat perched on the arm of the sofa. "And frankly I don't care!"

"You don't care?" Peter stopped and glared at Carla. "This is Si's life here."

"And it's my business!" Carla retorted. "In this industry, just the whiff of an allegation – even if its proved to be false – well, that kind of thing can easily destroy the Underworld brand."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, love."

"Oh, Peter, don't be so naïve! I make underwear, lingerie, sexy lingerie. I hire women to parade around in this sexy lingerie. Do you really think rumours of sexual harassment won't be a complete disaster? You're deluded, mate."

"Deluded? Are you having a laugh? My son is in bits and you don't even care."

"Of course I care about Simon –"

"Prove it!" Peter challenged her. "Put Simon first. Before your business. Before your profit margin. Before your reputation."

"Fine."

"Fine?" Peter looked at Carla in confusion. "What does 'fine' mean?"

"It means I'll sort it."

Carla grabbed her car keys and marched towards the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"Putting Simon first!" Carla shouted over her shoulder. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Don't do anything rash!" Peter called after Carla, but with only a grim, foreboding laugh as her response as she disappeared through the door, he wasn't at all confident.

* * *

_Ding-dong ding-dong_

Carla stood at the front door of the detached house surrounded by a neat, manicured garden, set in a quiet leafy street, waiting impatiently for someone to answer.

_Bang bang bang!_

Too impatient to wait any longer, Carla began banging her fists against the door.

"Alright! Alright!" Carla heard an irate female voice approaching the door from within the house. "I'm coming!"

The door opened to reveal to Carla a tall, elegant woman, even now when dressed in casual 'around the house' clothes, her smooth dark skin gleaming, her eyes shrewd and watchful.

"Well?" The woman had no time for pleasantries, not with someone seemingly intent on breaking her front door down. "What do you want?"

"I'm Carla Connor, I –"

"I know who you are," the woman answered calmly. "And I know why you're here."

"That saves a bit of time then. I take it you're Keira's mum?"

"Angelique," the woman stated with no further greeting, no smile, no outstretched hand for Carla to shake.

"Right," Carla was not to be put off by Angelique's brusqueness. "Is Keira home?"

"No."

"Can we talk then? Sort out this business with the kids. Before it goes too far."

"Too far?" Angelique scoffed. "It already went too far when that boy forced my daughter –"

"No." Carla immediately refuted Angelique's accusation. "Simon did not, he would never, ever, force a girl. He just wouldn't."

"Are you calling my daughter a liar?"

"No, of course not. I'm saying maybe, I don't know, maybe she's scared."

"She is scared! Scared of that boy!"

"His name is Simon and he's a good kid."

"Get away with your lies. My daughter is a good kid!"

"Please, if we can just talk calmly –"

"Talk to my lawyer."

"Please, Angelique –"

But Angelique had shut the door firmly in Carla's face, leaving her with no option but to trudge back to her car in defeat.

She sat in her car, her eyes closed, her head leaning back against the headrest, fearing her desire to prove herself to Peter had only made the situation worse. Peter had been right to warn her not to do anything rash.

_Click_

Carla's eyes flew open as the passenger door to her car opened and the car body bounced low as someone sat down next to her.

"Keira! What –?"

"Drive."

"What are you –?"

"Just drive!" Keira pleaded, her agitation growing by the second. "Before my mum sees us. Go!"

Without another moment's hesitation, Carla started the car engine and, in a squeal of tyres, sped away from Keira's home and any prying eyes that might be watching from within.

* * *

"If you look me in the eye and tell me that Simon forced you, or coerced you in any way to do something you didn't want to do, I'll believe you." Carla made her solemn vow to the teenager sitting opposite her at the table in the corner of a local café. "Keira?"

But Keira's undivided attention seemed focused entirely on the hot chocolate on the table in front of her. She absently dunked the marshmallows in the sweet, warm chocolatey goodness, watching them slowly dissolve as if her life depended on it, apparently oblivious to Carla's pleas.

"I'll believe you," Carla pushed on with her appeal. "Even though I know Simon and I know he would never intentionally hurt anyone like that." Carla became increasing frustrated at Keira's unresponsiveness. "Look, I'm not saying he's perfect, who is, hey? But he's got a good, kind heart." Carla reached across the table and gently took one of Keira's hands in hers. "Keira? If you look me in the eye and tell me he did this awful thing to you –"

"He didn't," Keira mumbled, her face still downcast, focused on her drink.

"Say that again."

Keira looked up at Carla, a plea for understanding in her eyes. "He didn't force me to do anything. He was so sweet and so gentle."

"Then why? Why are you doing this?"

"I don't know," Keira sobbed as a tear ran down her cheek. "When my parents found out I was pregnant, they freaked out. You don't know what they're like, Carla. The way they looked at me… So I… I thought if they believed it wasn't my fault. That Si… You have to believe me, I didn't think they'd go this far."

"I believe you, I do." Carla stroked Keira's hand gently with her thumb. "But it's time to tell the truth. It's time to put a stop to all this."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. You're the only one who can."

Keira looked at Carla; she wanted to trust this woman, this woman who'd given her a job, given her friendship, a chance to meet a boy she honestly cared about, a boy she didn't want to hurt. But then she thought of her parents, of the judgement in their eyes when she'd told them about the baby; the disappointment she saw reflected back at her. As much as she wanted to help Carla, she knew she couldn't, she wasn't brave enough.

"Tell Si I'm sorry."

Keira snatched her hand out of Carla's grip and stood, the tears streaming down her face now, and ran out of the café.

"Keira! Wait!"

But Keira was gone. So was any chance of Carla defusing the situation without the intervention of lawyers, without everyone on the street, all their friends and neighbours whispering about Simon, gossiping about him, judging him. All thoughts of Underworld and the effect this would have on her business had left her mind, all she cared about was Simon.


	31. Chapter 31: You've been served - Part II

**Chapter 31: You've been served – Part II**

"I knew I should've driven," Carla mouthed off as Peter eased the car slowly around a tight corner. "We'll never make it on time with you behind the wheel."

"Just because I don't drive like a maniac!" Peter shot back at her.

"I don't drive like a maniac!"

"Ha!" Peter scoffed. "You would've taken that corner on two wheels."

"Well, you took it so slow we almost went round in reverse!"

"Hey!" Simon barked from the back seat. "Can you two please stop fighting!?"

"We're not fighting," Carla replied, turning to Peter with a mischievous grin. "Are we fighting?"

"Nope," Peter agreed, feigning innocence. "No fighting here."

"You're impossible, you know that!?" Simon shook his head with a smile.

"Hey," Carla twisted around in her seat to face Simon, reaching out and placing her hand gently on his knee. "Try not to worry, yeah? We've got time."

"Twelve minutes," Simon stated matter-of-fact, his desperation rising by the second. "I don't know what I'll do if I don't get there before…"

"I know," Carla smiled compassionately at her step-son. "Have some faith, yeah?"

* * *

_24 hours earlier…_

"Sally!" Carla called out as she entered the factory.

"Mrs Connor," Sally jumped up from her machine. "Did you have a successful afternoon? What was it, a meeting with a new client?"

"It was none of your business, Sal. Now, how did you get on while I was out?"

"Well, we finished the Dawson's order ahead of time and now we're working on the Tindale order."

"Good, Sal," Carla congratulated her. "That's really good."

"You see, Mrs Connor, all it takes is a little discipline when dealing with the machinists. A firm hand on the tiller I always say –"

"Thank you, Sal, I know. Listen, have Packing finished with Dawson's?"

"They should be with Simon helping out."

"Simon?" Carla shot Sally a quizzical look. "Is Simon here?"

"Yeah, he's in Packing with Kirk."

* * *

"Hey, you two," Carla greeted Kirk and Simon as they worked, surrounded by boxes and tape and knickers, all ready to be packed and sent out to Underworld clients.

"Mrs Connor," Kirk turned to his boss with his characteristic enthusiasm. "Can Simon have his own tape gun? I mean, if he's going to be my apprentice, he'll need his own tools."

"We'll see, Kirky, we'll see," Carla replied with an indulgent smile. "Is Dawson's ready to go?"

"One more box, Mrs Connor."

"Did you want to bring the van round? Me and Si can finish the last box."

"Right you are, Mrs Connor."

Carla waited until Kirk was out of earshot before turning to Simon.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Si."

"Why?" Simon was immediately defensive. "I do work here, remember? Or are you gonna sack me because of what happened?"

"Why would I sack you?" Carla asked him gently. "Hey? You didn't do anything wrong."

"That's not what you said before."

"I'm sorry, Si. I was wrong to talk to you like that."

"_You're_ sorry?" Simon stared at Carla incredulously.

"Yes," Carla cried out. "Don't act so shocked. I can admit when I'm wrong."

Simon merely laughed.

"Oi!" Carla couldn't help but laugh along with Simon. "Stop it! You'll give me a complex."

As their laughter died out, Carla couldn't help but notice the worry lines furrowed into Simon's forehead and the tense set of his jaw.

"Let's get out of here, yeah?" Carla suggested.

"What?" Simon stared at Carla. "Now? You want to leave work before five?"

"Don't tell Sal, yeah," Carla whispered to Simon conspiratorially as she draped her arm around his shoulder. "But I kinda fancy bunking off, ordering a pizza, maybe some ice cream, and watching a movie with my favourite people. What d'ya say?"

"Yeah," Simon nodded with a smile. "I'd like that."

* * *

"What toppings do you girls want on your ice cream?" Peter called out to Carla and Jamie from the kitchen where he and Simon were preparing the family's dessert.

"Umm…" Jamie pondered the question for a moment before listing off her wants. "Chocolate sauce and caramel sauce and banana and berries and nuts and chocolate sprinkles and little marshmallows and –"

"And a serving of diabetes by the sound of it," Carla remarked drily. "Baby, you can have one sauce and the fruit. That's all. Which sauce do you want?"

"But…" Jamie's lower lip trembled momentarily until she caught sight of the look in her mum's eyes and knew she had no chance of winning this fight by throwing a tantrum. "Chocolate sauce and banana and berries thank you daddy."

"Good girl," Carla kissed Jamie affectionately on the cheek. "Can I have some berries please, babe, and can you mush them through the ice cream for me?"

"Sure can," Peter promised Carla before turning to Simon. "What about you, mate?"

"Caramel sauce and chocolate sprinkles for me."

"You got it."

Peter got to work scooping out the ice cream while Simon loaded the dishwasher with the dirty plates from dinner.

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked his son gently.

"Me?" Simon wasn't sure how to answer. "I dunno. Like I've disappointed you."

"You haven't," Peter reassured Simon. "Besides, that's not what I asked."

"What do you mean?" Simon was confused.

"I asked how _you_ were feeling," Peter reinforced his original question. "This is a big thing you're going through. Whatever happens, whether Keira goes through with the termination or decides to keep the baby, it's huge. And I want to know how you feel about it."

"Umm…" Simon was suddenly frightened to reveal the truth, even to his dad. "I'm happy?"

"About Keira being pregnant?"

"No," Simon shook his head. "I'm happy she's getting rid of it."

"Right."

"See," Simon accused his dad. "You're disappointed in me."

"No, I'm not," Peter struggled to keep the sympathetic tone in his voice. "I'm surprised that's all."

"Dad, I'm fifteen," Simon pleaded with Peter to understand. "I don't want a kid! Does that make me a bad person?"

Peter looked at his son, at the desperation in his eyes, to be understood, to not be judged. Simon had made a mistake, if it could even be called a mistake, he was more unlucky than anything, Peter reasoned to himself. Should he really have to pay for that 'mistake' for the rest of his life?

"No. That doesn't make you a bad person. But…"

"What?" Simon asked defiantly.

"What about Keira?"

"What about her?"

"Even if you're not having a baby with her, that doesn't mean you don't have a responsibility to her, to make sure she's okay, to help her and support her."

"No," Simon shook his head. "I can't. Not after everything she's done."

"You asked me before if I was disappointed in you. I wasn't then, but now…"

"But dad! It's not my fault." Simon appealed against his dad's condemnation.

"No, Si, it's not your fault. But it's not Keira's either. You got what you wanted from her and now when things get complicated, you're just gonna dump her?"

Father and son were so engrossed in their conversation they didn't hear the front doorbell ring and were oblivious to the new arrival in their home until Carla cleared her throat.

"You've got a visitor, Si."

Simon looked across to the living room where Jamie was talking nineteen to the dozen to her new bestie, Keira, who was only half-heartedly listening to the babbling almost five-year-old; her attention was caught by the young man talking to his father in the kitchen, her gaze flickering up at him until the moment he looked at her. As soon as their eyes met, she dropped her eyes, suddenly wholly engrossed with her fidgeting hands in her lap, a sudden feeling of shame washing over her.

* * *

"I'm not sure we should've left them on their own," Peter mused anxiously.

"He was old enough to knock her up," Carla reasoned. "He's old enough to have a conversation with her without us hovering."

"Hmm…" Peter pondered her words. "I guess you're right."

"Hey, baby girl," Carla was suddenly engrossed with Susie who had opened her eyes after a nap in her pram and was looking around her at the world that had changed so completely since she had gone to sleep. Carla picked the baby up and propped her against the crook of her arm so that she had the best view. She looked out over the Red Rec from the bench where they were sitting, to where Jamie was skipping from bush to bush, darting behind trees and scrabbling on the ground.

Peter leaned over and tickled Susie's tummy, delighting in the stream of giggles that burst from Susie's mouth.

"She's growing up so quickly," Peter lamented as Carla bounced Susie on her knee, prompting squeals of glee from the baby that was fast becoming a toddler.

"Soon she'll be off running around with Jamie," Carla noted as she watched her daughter's game. "What _is_ she doing?"

"Hunting for fairies."

"Hunting for fairies?"

"Dad told me about it," Peter revealed. "It's a game they invented. Apparently, according to dad, it's good for her imagination."

Carla watched as Jamie scooped something out of the low-hanging branches of an ancient oak tree and came running towards her parents.

"Mummy! Daddy! Look what I found!"

Jamie excitedly opened her hands to reveal nothing but air.

"I caught a fairy!"

"Wow!" Peter enthused. "Look at it, it's so pretty!"

"I have to let it go now, daddy."

"So soon?"

Jamie nodded, deadly serious. "Fairies get sad if you stop them flying free."

"Off you go then and take the fairy back to its family."

"Okay!"

Carla and Peter watched as Jamie ran back to the oak tree and made a show of releasing the fairy back into its natural environment.

"Ken," Carla contemplated. "He really loves being a grandad, doesn't he?"

"Oh, yeah, he sure does."

"How about you?"

"Me?" Peter sighed loudly at the thought. "It doesn't look like I'm going to get that chance. Not yet anyway."

"Would you want that? To be a grandad?"

"Honestly?" Peter reflected. "I can't see it, not right now. Although…"

"What?"

"The thought of having another baby around the house…"

"Crazy, right?" Carla laughed.

"No, not at all. Actually, I quite like the idea."

"You what?"

"Haven't you ever thought about having another baby?"

"Umm… no!"

"Really?" Peter turned in his seat to look earnestly at Carla. "You don't think a little brother or sister for Jamie would be nice?"

"Peter, are you serious? Do you want another kid?"

"I don't know," Peter shrugged his shoulders as he poked Susie playfully in her tummy. "I'm just saying it'd be nice. I mean, we love having Susie around, don't we?"

"But that's only temporary."

"I guess… It's just an idea."

"Okay."

"No pressure."

"Sure."

Carla looked down at the baby in her arms and tried to imagine having another of her own. She adored Jamie and being a mum but couldn't help but think the risks involved with another pregnancy at her age and her physical condition weren't worth it. But then she looked up at Peter, at his excitement at the thought of another baby, at the sad remembrance of all the milestones he'd missed with Jamie, and was torn.

* * *

"What do you want?" Simon demanded coldly. "Haven't you done enough damage? Trying to sue my family?"

Simon glared across at Keira who struggled to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry," Keira said, the tears smarting in her eyes. "I never meant for any of that to happen."

"But it did," Simon retorted bitterly. "Because of your lies."

"I know and I said I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, sorry's not gonna fix things, is it?"

"I've told my parents the truth."

"You what?" Simon stared at Keira, a mixture of disbelief and hope springing up within him.

"I told them that, you know, what we did… I wanted to do it."

"Oh," Simon was silent for a moment as Keira's revelation sink in. "How did that go down?"

"What do you think? They were disappointed in me."

"Join the club."

An awkward silence descended over the young couple.

"I'm going tomorrow," Keira revealed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Going where?"

"To the clinic for… you know… the, umm, the termination."

"Oh," Simon didn't know what else to say.

"I'd like it if you came with me."

"You want me there?" Simon silently prayed that her answer would be no.

"Of course I do," Keira nodded tearfully. "It is your baby remember."

"No."

"What?"

"I'm not going."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to."

"But…"

"Look, it's your problem, you get rid of it. I don't want anything more to do with it."

Keira stared at Simon in disbelief, but he refused to look at her. Even when her face crumpled and the tears began to stream down her face, he remained as if turned to stone. Even when she ran out of the flat, breathless with the sobs that threatened to break her down before she had a chance to flee from his heartlessness, his face hardly flinched at the cruelty of his words.

* * *

"I can't."

Simon stood frozen outside the entrance to the clinic, suddenly terrified at what lay waiting for him behind those doors.

"Si?" Peter asked his son. "What's going on?"

"I can't go in there."

"Why?"

"I'm scared," Simon confessed in a whisper.

"I know," Peter reassured him, with a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But you know what? So is Keira. She needs you right now. She needs you to be brave and for you to walk in there and support her. Okay? You need to be strong. For her."

Simon looked at his dad and took courage from his words. He was still scared, he wasn't going to deny that, but he was determined not to be a coward.

* * *

"What is he doing here?!" Angelique stood up, a physical shield of sorts for her daughter, as Simon and his entourage burst into the waiting room. "Get out!"

"I'm here for Keira," Simon declared. "I've got every right to be here."

"She's upset enough as it is, I won't have you making things worse."

"Angelique," Carla tried to placate the angry and protective mother. "Why don't we give them some space."

"No! I want him out of here!"

"It's okay, mum," Keira nodded her assurance to her mother. "I want to talk to him."

Angelique looked from Keira to Simon, desperate to protect her daughter from further hurt.

"Mum," Keira pleaded. "Please."

"If he upsets you –"

"Go away, mum."

Angelique allowed herself to be led by Carla and Peter to the opposite end of the waiting but kept her gaze fixed on her daughter, ready to step in at a moment's notice.

Simon sat down next to Keira, suddenly unsure of what to say or what to do.

"Don't try and talk me out of it," Keira warned him before he could formulate a plan.

"I'm not going to."

"Then why are you here?"

"I thought you might need someone to hold your hand."

"Really?" Keira couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. I was so completely out of line."

"Yes, you were," Keira agreed. "You really hurt me, you know."

"I know. Can you forgive me?"

Keira looked at Simon; Simon looked at Keira, a silent plea in his eyes. He reached out and placed his hand over hers, interlocking his fingers with hers, stroking the back of her hand softly with his thumb. She smiled at him and nodded.

"Yeah, I can forgive you."

"Keira Bradford?"

Keira and Simon both looked up at the nurse standing by the door that lead to the consulting rooms.

"Are you ready?" Simon asked her.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Let's do this."

The pair stood up, hand-in-hand, and followed the nurse out of the waiting room without a thought for or a backwards glance at their family that remained behind.

Angelique half rose from her seat, intending to follow her daughter but, as Carla placed her hand gently on her arm, a silent restraint, she sunk back down. She wasn't needed; Keira had all the support she wanted.

"You should be proud of your son," Carla whispered to Peter.

"I am," Peter nodded tearfully. "I know I said I was disappointed in him, but… He got there in the end, didn't he? That's what matters, right?"

"Right," Carla agreed. "He sounds like someone else I know."

"Are you saying I disappoint you?"

"I'm saying you get there in the end, because your heart is in the right place. And you've passed that onto your son. It's a compliment, Peter, so just take it, yeah."

Peter laughed as he wrapped his arm around Carla's shoulder and pulled her close to him; she rested her head on his shoulder and reflected on her words. It was true, Peter had messed up so many times, disappointed her, hurt her terribly. But he had learned from his mistakes and had become a better man for it; a better father. She couldn't think of a better father figure to Simon and Jamie and Susie and anyone else that might join their family in the future.


	32. Chapter 32: Mother's Day

**Chapter 32: Mother's Day**

Carla lay stretched out on the sofa, her head resting on a pillow Peter had placed in his lap for her, her ankles propped up on the far arm of the sofa. Susie lay asleep on her chest; the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the rhythmic beat of her heart soothing her baby niece. Carla's hand rested lightly on Susie's back, her thumb gently stroking the infant as she slumbered the afternoon away.

For afternoon it was, Saturday afternoon in fact, and the Barlow-Connor-Price clan were lazing the day away; Carla and Susie snoozing on and off on the sofa, Peter watching the football on television while absently stroking Carla's hair. Simon was seated on an armchair, his full attention devoted to the phone in his hands. Even Snowy the cat was present, curled up on Carla's legs and purring contentedly. Jamie alone was absent; she was playing in her bedroom.

Or so they all thought.

Simon was the first to notice her.

"Dad," he whispered to Peter, nodding towards his little sister.

"Oh my god," Peter exclaimed as he set eyes on his daughter. "Carla is going to freak."

Peter nudged Carla gently. "Babe," he whispered softly to her.

"Mmm…?" Carla murmured, a little dazed in her half-asleep state. "S'up?"

"Your daughter has something to show you."

"What?" Carla gazed up at Peter and then, following his line of sight, looked over to where Jamie was standing, grinning from ear to ear, obviously delighted with the result of her labours.

"Oh, baby!" Carla gasped in horror as she slowly rose to a seated position, clutching Susie close to her chest.

"Do you like it mummy?" Jamie asked, her eyes wide in expectation.

"Umm…" Carla was lost for words.

"Do I look pretty?" Jamie was desperate for her mum's approval.

Carla took in the spectacle that was presented before her; Jamie stood, hands on hips, 'striking a pose' as they used to say, wearing one of Carla's tops, too big for Jamie of course, for her little body it was a dress. On her feet were a pair of Carla's stiletto ankle boots, many sizes too big. And her face… Her face was the part of her 'look' that Jamie was most proud of. Her lips – along with a significant portion of her cheeks and chin – were smeared with a dusky pink lipstick. Carla recognised the colour; it was her favourite Tom Ford Beauty lipstick, her very expensive Tom Ford Beauty lipstick. She sighed at the thought. Sticking with the pink theme, Jamie had applied an extremely vibrant shade of it to her eyelids, all the way up to and a little bit above her eyebrows, that were themselves accentuated by a heavy scribble of black eyeliner. Obviously very observant when watching Carla apply her own makeup, Jamie had copied, in spirit at least, the contour of her cheeks which, on Jamie, meant a solid dark brown stripe down each cheek.

"You look beautiful, baby."

As much as she wanted to yell at Jamie for getting into her makeup, Carla also had an overwhelming urge to laugh at the end result. Pushing any thoughts of chastisement out of her mind for now, Carla couldn't help but whip out her phone and take photos of Jamie posing while wearing on her body and on her face what Jamie clearly believed was high fashion.

* * *

Her face washed clean and now dressed in her pyjamas, Jamie curled up with her mum on Carla and Peter's bed. Carla kissed her daughter softly on the forehead and wrapped her arms around her lovingly.

"Jamie, sweetheart, you know I loved your dress ups this afternoon?"

Jamie nodded happily and confessed, "I wanted to look like you, mummy."

"Oh, baby," Carla almost didn't have the heart to continue. But, for the sake of what remained of her makeup collection, she knew she needed to. "Now, are you allowed to touch mummy's makeup?"

Jamie looked up at Carla, her eyes wide with guilt. "Umm…"

"Come on, you know the answer."

"No," Jamie's lip trembled at the thought of the punishment coming her way. "I'm sorry, mummy. Are you mad at me, mummy?"

"Are you going to do it again?"

"No!" Jamie shook her head, exaggerating the side-to-side movements for dramatic effect. "Never, mummy."

"Of course I'm not mad at you. Come here…"

Carla hugged Jamie tight, kissing her hair as her daughter snuggled up to her.

"Did you have fun playing with mummy's makeup?"

Jamie nodded, her face buried in her mum's chest; Carla felt the small, delicious movement through her body.

"Okay, I'm going to make a deal with you. If you promise to stay out of mummy's things, then one day this week, you and me will go into town for some girly time. And I'm going to buy you some of your own makeup."

Jamie's face lit up; she turned her face up to her mum's and beamed with happiness.

"Something that's made especially for little girls' skin," Carla clarified. "And something that's not as expensive as mummy's."

Carla's thoughts wandered momentarily to her destroyed Tom Ford lipstick with a sigh until the feeling of her daughter's arms wrapped around her, squeezing her tight, loving her, brought her back to what was really important.

"Thank you, mummy."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

* * *

Peter switched off his bedside lamp and turned towards Carla as she lay beside him in bed, wholly engrossed with her phone. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled in close to her body.

"Put that down, baby, I'm tired."

"You are not tired," Carla laughed at his assertion. "You're just horny."

"Okay, guilty as charged," Peter wasn't about to argue with the truth. "Now put that down."

Peter tried to take the phone from Carla's hands, but she resisted.

"Hold on a minute, I've had an idea."

"You wanna make a sex tape with your phone?" Peter proposed suggestively as he slowly ran his hands up and down Carla's body, pausing to fondle her breasts, massaging them gently in the palm of his hand.

"Stop it! I'm being serious!"

"Sorry," Peter apologised with a cheeky grin. "Go on, tell me your idea."

"Well, you know it's Mother's Day coming up?"

"Yessss…" Peter replied suspiciously. "Is this you hinting at what you want as a present?"

"No!" Carla refuted his claim. "No, I don't want – I don't _need_ anything, I've got everything I need." Carla proved her statement by leaning over and kissing Peter softly on the lips. "No, I'm talking about the Underworld Mother's Day campaign."

"What about it?"

Carla held out her phone; on the display was one of the photos she had taken earlier of Jamie playing dress up. Not just dressing up, but dressing up like her mum.

"It's an idea worth exploring, don't ya think?"

* * *

It was one thing for Carla to think a mother-daughter photo shoot was a great idea when laying in the comfort and privacy of her own bed, but it was another thing entirely when it came to stripping off for the camera. Even though she was wearing exactly the same as Jamie – only in adult sizes – a cami top paired with boy shorts, Carla felt vulnerable stood there in the studio in front of so many people; photographer, assistant, stylist, designer, PR, Peter. Not that she felt shy in front of Peter of course.

"Carla!"

Carla looked up; the stylist she had hired for the Underworld Mother's Day campaign, Vivienne, was motioning her over to where she was deep in conversation with Underworld head designer, Jeremy, beside a rack full of Underworld's latest designs.

"Carla," Vivienne began in her characteristically patronising manner that made Carla feel like she knew nothing about fashion or style. The woman was lucky she was the best stylist in town, Carla thought to herself, or she'd be out that door quicker than she could say 'fashion, darling!'. "Jeremy and I have had a little tête-à-tête and we feel there's something missing."

"Oh…?" Carla asked warily. "What's that?"

"Underworld. You make lingerie, right?"

"Well, yes."

"Then why are we shooting a campaign with no lingerie?"

"But, Vivienne, we are."

"We want to show off our very best designs, don't we Carla?" Jeremy interjected.

"Of course we do. Only the best for all the mums out there."

"Like this –"

Jeremy pulled an outfit off the rack and presented it to Carla. It was one of Carla's favourites from the Underworld range; one of Peter's favourites as well. An exquisitely hand-stitched satin and lace affair in pale blush pink and black in a balconette bra with matching Brazilian knickers; perfect for the bedroom, Carla wasn't so sure she could pull it off in front of the camera.

"Oh, gosh," Carla stared at the outfit dubiously.

"And for Jamie –"

A matching outfit, once again in pale blush pink and black, but in an age appropriate style; while Carla's outfit was sexy, Jamie's was cute.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know…" Carla felt a wave of pure fear rush over her. "Peter!?"

Peter hurried over to Carla from where he had been keeping Jamie entertained while she waited for her big moment.

"What is it, love?"

Carla grabbed the sexy outfit from Jeremy's hands and pulled Peter to one side.

"They want me to wear this."

"Oh, hellooo," Peter grinned at the memory of the night Carla had modelled the sexy set for him, of admiring it strewn on their bedroom floor the next morning. "I remember when we took this little number for a test drive."

"Don't you think it's a bit sexy?"

"No, I think it's, umm, what's the word? Representative. That's it, it's representative of what you sell. What Underworld stands for. Carla, I don't understand your hesitation?"

"What about my scars?"

"What about them? You should be proud of them."

"Really?"

"Yes," Peter reassured her, kissing her softly on the lips and caressing her cheek. "They're beautiful, just like you, because they tell a story of survival and love and generosity."

"I guess… but…" Carla wasn't done trying to wriggle out of wearing the daring outfit. "Do I really want all of our neighbours, our friends and family, my dad! your dad! to know what I look like in my underwear?"

"Babe, what's this campaign about?"

"Well, it's for Mother's Day. It's about how children want to be like their parents, mothers in this case, how they look up to their mothers as role models."

"And what better role model for our daughter than for you to show the world that you are proud of your body, scars and all."

"And podgy tummy."

"Podgy!?" Peter scoffed. "Get real, Carla, there's nothing podgy about you."

"There is! Feel this –" Carla pressed Peter's hand against her tummy; Peter merely rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Even if you did have a podgy tummy," Peter began, hastily adding after catching sight of Carla's face, "Not that you do. I'm not saying that. Because you don't. But, even if you did, that's nothing to be ashamed of. Now, get that sexy arse of yours into this outfit and show the world how amazing you are. Okay?"

"Okay," Carla smiled at Peter and kissed him. "Thank you."

Peter watched the photo shoot proudly, not just because Carla overcame her fears about putting her scarred body on display, or because his heart almost leapt out of his chest with love and pride every time he looked at his daughter, but because this year would be the first year since Carla had become a mother that he would be celebrating it with her.

He thought about how he'd never been around to support her, not during most of her pregnancy, and not during almost four whole years of their daughter's life. How he'd never been around to make her feel appreciated, to make her feel special, and determined that, now that they were back together for good, she would feel these things, not just on Mother's Day, but every day.

Peter had a sudden brainwave. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? It was so natural and so perfect. The perfect gesture at the perfect time.

* * *

"Alright, Carla?" Tim Metcalfe greeted Carla with a grin as he allowed his eyes to linger over Carla's body, moving slowly from her head to her feet. "Looking good."

"What are you –?"

"The bus shelter…"

"Oh, god no!"

With Peter, Jamie and Susie bringing up the rear, Carla rushed around the street corner to witness first-hand the brand spanking new advertisement that graced the side of the bus shelter.

"Mummy! Mummy!" Jamie broke free from Peter's grip on her hand the moment she saw herself larger than life on the ad. "Look at me!"

"Yeah," Carla forced a smile on her face and crouched down next to her daughter. "You look beautiful, darling."

"No, mummy, you're beautiful!"

"No, you're beautiful!"

Carla wrapped her arm around Jamie's shoulder and squeezed her tight, placing an affectionate kiss on her cheek.

"You're both beautiful!"

Mother and daughter both beamed up at Peter as he beamed back at them and almost burst with pride.

* * *

"You do look beautiful, you know," Peter reassured Carla as they left the bus stop behind and finished their walk to drop off the girls with Ken. "Stunning in fact."

"Thanks, babe," Carla said. "I'm just, I dunno, a little embarrassed at having the likes of Tim Metcalfe thinking… things!"

"They can think all they want," Peter conceded. "As long as they don't touch."

"Hey," Carla suggested as Peter knocked on the front door of No. 1 Coronation Street. "Do you fancy a coffee at Roys before work?"

"Sorry, love, I got things to do."

"What things?" Carla asked. "You never mentioned anything."

"Just… things."

"Ah!" Ken exclaimed in delight as he opened the door to see his granddaughter beaming up at him. "Who have we got here?"

"Grandad!" Jamie immediately began with her chitchat. "Me and mummy are on a poster, grandad, a really big poster and –"

"Are you going to tell me what you're up to?" Carla whispered to Peter as Jamie chattered away to Ken.

"Nope!" Peter said with a grin. "It's a surprise."

"Right…" Carla pondered him for a moment. "If that's how you're going to play it. Jamie, give mummy a kiss goodbye."

Jamie turned around and, after raising her arms up in the air expectantly until Carla lifted her up for a quick cuddle, gave her mum a very wet kiss on the cheek.

"Bye bye mummy!" Jamie cried enthusiastically.

"Have a good day with grandad, sweetheart," Carla smiled at her daughter's eagerness to spend the day with Ken. "Thanks, Ken."

"Any time."

"And you, my sweet angel," Carla cooed as she placed a soft kiss on Susie's cheek and caressed her head gently as Peter bounced the baby in his arms. "You have a good day too. Okay then," Carla said as she hitched her handbag back onto her shoulder. "I'll see you tonight Ken. And you girls. And Peter."

"Hang on!" Peter stopped her as she turned to leave. "Don't I get a kiss as well?"

"Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"

"No."

"Then, no, you don't get a kiss."

Peter couldn't help but smile as he watched Carla strut towards the factory, clearly wanting to remind him of what she was denying him. He didn't mind missing out right now, he knew it'd be worth it in the end.

* * *

"And I'm not allowed to get out of bed?" Carla asked as she accepted the coffee, strong and black, that Peter had brought into her.

"Nope," Peter affirmed. "I'm under strict instructions from the boss."

The boss, a.k.a. Jamie Connor, at that very moment entered the bedroom, her arms laden with gifts. Placing her booty on a pile on top of the duvet, she scrambled onto the bed and immediately launched herself at her mum, hugging her and kissing her and squeezing her and loving her.

"Happy Mother's Day, mummy!" Jamie proclaimed with a wide smile.

"Thank you, darling."

"I got you presents," Jamie informed her before picking up each item, one by one, and handing them to Carla, along with a brief description. "This is a card I made you, mummy. It's got glitter on it. I stuck it on with glue. And this is a drawing I drawed for you. That's you, mummy (as she pointed at one of the stick figures on her drawing), and that's daddy, and that's Simon, and that's me, and that's Susie, and that's Snowy. That's our family. And this is chocolates I bought you from Dev. I bought it you with money I saved from feeding Snowy. And I wanted to buy you flowers but I had no money left, so I picked these flowers from the community garden. And me and grandad baked cookies for you. Me and Simon ate most of them yesterday but I saved you one 'specially for you, mummy."

"Oh, baby, thank you!" Carla laid her presents aside and pulled Jamie in for a big warm bear hug. "You're spoiling me, you are."

"Me and daddy got a surprise for you," Jamie grinned conspiratorially up at Peter.

"Oh, yeah? What is it?"

"Silly mummy!" Jamie chastised her. "It's a surprise!"

* * *

"Do you remember this place?" Peter asked Carla as he pulled the car into a parking spot overlooking their destination.

"Of course I do," Carla smiled at the memory. "It was our first day out together as a family. Well, family of sorts."

"I remember we built a sandcastle."

"Jamie was bossing us about."

"Takes after her mum."

"And we ate fish and chips."

"And I got jealous when I saw photos on your phone of you and Sam kissing."

"What?!" Carla was momentarily shocked. "Is that why you went all funny on me?"

"Yeah," Peter confessed, a little embarrassed at the memory of his childish behaviour. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. Seeing you like that, all loved up, with someone else, it churned me all up inside."

"Aww, you're so cute."

"Daddy!" Jamie suddenly yelled impatiently from the back seat. "I'm booored! I'm hungryyyyyy!"

"Come on then," Peter replied to his daughter before explaining to Carla. "We are going to have a picnic on the beach. I've packed all your favourite foods. Got some blankets in case we get cold. Some candles…"

"Sounds perfect."

* * *

"All done," Carla proclaimed with satisfaction as she surveyed the picnic blanket they had spread with cushions, blankets, and an array of yummy food and drink.

"Mummy?" Jamie called her mum to attention.

"Yes, darling?"

"I wanna go walk and look for shells."

"But… we've just set up the picnic. We can't just leave it."

"Daddy stay here and we go for shells?" Jamie helpfully suggested.

"And leave daddy on his own?"

"I don't mind," Peter interjected. "You two go and have fun."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Peter was sure. "Now go."

As Carla leaned over to pick up her jacket, Peter winked at Jamie, causing her to giggle with suppressed excitement over their shared secret.

"Come on, mummy!" Jamie slipped her hand into Carla's and dragged her away down the beach. "Let's go shell hunting!"

* * *

By the time Carla and Jamie trudged back up the beach, their hands filled with sea shells they had gathered along the shoreline, the sun was beginning to set.

Looking up to where their picnic was set out, Carla saw that Peter had lit dozens of tea lights. As they got closer, they could make out that each tea light was nestled on a bed of sand and tiny sea shells inside a decorative glass jar.

Jamie was almost bouncing with excitement as they walked ever closer to where Peter was waiting for them under a sky that was gradually darkening through a series of brilliant sunset colours; pinks and oranges and, for a dazzling moment, an intense red, then settling down into pastels as the sky above them emitted a warm and cosy glow.

And then Carla saw it; spelled out in shells on the sand in front of the picnic blanket, illuminated by tea lights positioned all about, were two words. As Carla stared at those two words, she noticed Peter out of the corner of her eye as he made his move.

Lowering one knee to the ground, Peter held out in his hand a ring, an oval pink diamond (the colour chosen by Jamie of course) enclosed by a ring of small diamonds, set on a slim, rose gold band encrusted with yet more small diamonds. It was the perfect accompaniment to the question that Peter had written out in sea shells: MARRY ME?

"Oh my god," Carla whispered, shocked and overcome with emotion as the tears sprang to her eyes, before both her and Peter burst into laughter at the sight of Jamie jumping up and down and running around the couple, fit to burst with excitement.

"Are you gonna say yes, mummy?" Jamie asked her mum eagerly as she bounced on the sand in front of her, tugging at her jacket.

"I have to wait for daddy to ask me first," Carla replied, before lowering her voice to a whisper. "And then I'll say yes."

"Ask her, daddy! She's gonna say yes!"

"Are you sure?" Peter asked Jamie who nodded her head vigorously in the affirmative. "Okay then…" Peter looked up into Carla's eyes when suddenly his voice caught in his throat at the sight before him, at the look in her eyes that told him her answer before he'd even asked the question. The meaningful speech he'd prepared, the words he had painstakingly chosen to express his love and his commitment to this glorious woman in front of him abandoned him completely. But he didn't care, he didn't need a bunch of fancy words, he needed only two.

"Marry me?" Peter asked in his low, husky voice.

"Yes." Carla did not hesitate with her reply.

"Yay!" Jamie was ready to celebrate.

Carla sunk down to her knees and, placing her hands on Peter's cheeks, caressing his skin softly, kissed him, grazing her lips against his lips, as his arms reached around her body and pulled her in close to him.

Jamie, eager as ever to be in the thick of the action, placed herself in the middle of her parents, transforming the couple's embrace into a family hug.


	33. Chapter 33: The Engagement Party

**Chapter 33: The Engagement Party**

Carla mentally talked herself through the steps she had learned from watching and re-watching YouTube tutorials in preparation for this moment. Jamie had her heart set on sporting the complicated twisted fishtail braid hairstyle that she had spied in one of Carla's fashion magazines, wanting to look her best for her parents' engagement party that evening.

"Stop squirming!" Carla ordered her daughter, who was fidgeting restlessly throughout the intricate procedure.

"Are you finished yet?" Jamie asked with a whine in her voice that Carla couldn't stand.

"Tone."

Jamie knew exactly what her mum meant by that single word and repeated her question, putting particular emphasis on using a sing-song happy voice this time.

"Are you finished yet, mummy?"

"Hmm…" Carla wasn't over the moon about the sarcasm that dripped from her daughter's second effort, but wasn't about to risk a tantrum tonight of all nights. "Almost. Just let me concentrate… there we go… have you got the…? Jamie…? Jamie!" Carla startled Jamie out of the daydream she'd lapsed into. "Lacky!"

Jamie pulled the elastic hair band off her wrist where she'd placed it for safekeeping and handed it to Carla who twisted it around and around the end of the braid until it was securely fastened.

"There!" Carla exclaimed triumphantly as she turned Jamie around to face the full-length mirror she had insisted on installing in her dressing room. "What do you think?"

"Oh, mummy!" Jamie grinned, ecstatic at the end result. "I love it, mummy!"

Jamie twisted her body around, posing in front of the mirror, first this way and then that, pleased not just with her hair, but with her whole outfit; a bright yellow sleeveless frilled t-shirt dress over a pair of hot pink sequin leggings, and her favourite aqua high-top Converse with unicorns printed all over them on her feet.

"And to finish…" Carla teased. "A little bit of lippy?"

Jamie pouted her lips in dramatic fashion as Carla applied a coat of the shiny pink lip gloss she had recently bought her daughter after the little terror's misadventures in her expensive makeup collection.

"Perfect!" Carla declared, beaming proudly at the sight of her daughter all dressed up. "Now, are you ready to party?"

* * *

Peter looked up from the kitchen where he was setting out glasses in rows on the benchtop and smiled at the sight of Jamie running excitedly into the living room, followed closely by Carla.

"Hey, princess, don't you look pretty!"

"Yes! I do! I look beautiful!" Jamie agreed with her dad before twirling around on the spot, showing off the frills of her dress.

"What about me?" Carla asked Peter, snaking her arms around his neck and kissing him softly on the lips.

"What about you?"

"Do I look pretty too?"

"I know you feel pretty damn good," Peter murmured as he ran his hands down her back, over the wide legged black trousers with the satin stripe down the side reminiscent of the classic tuxedo and tied high in the waist with a black satin sash belt and the strapless black bustier top finished with thousands of silver sequins.

He kissed her neck, nuzzling in past the soft waves of her hair that were swept to one side and tumbled over the front of her left shoulder.

"Oi! None of that." Carla chastised him. "We've got guests coming, remember?"

"I don't care," Peter kissed her again, edging a little closer to danger as his kisses moved down towards her bare chest.

_Bzzz Bzzz_

"Saved by the bell!"

Peter sighed, disappointed, as Carla broke free from his embrace and hurried to answer the door.

* * *

"Crisis averted," Carla declared as she placed a full glass of champagne into Michelle's hand just as Michelle set her empty glass down on the sideboard.

"What crisis?" Michelle quizzed Carla.

"You were almost dry!" Carla explained, nodding towards the champagne.

"Can't have they, ey?"

"A little lubrication to get the party going never hurts, does it?" Carla raised her own full glass, reciprocated by Michelle with a mutual "Cheers!" and, tipping her head back, took a long sip of the celebratory drink.

"Aren't you worried about Peter?" Michelle asked. "What with all this booze around?"

"Peter?" Carla scoffed at the idea. "No, Peter's fine. He was landlord of the Rovers don't forget. No, he just wants everyone to have a good time."

"Well, it certainly looks like they are."

"Yeah," Carla said with a little sigh of contentment. "They are, aren't they?" She looked around her, at her and Peter's friends and family, gathered in their new home, their first proper family home together, to celebrate their love. "You know," Carla reflected. "It feels different this time."

"Different to what?"

"You know, when we got together the first time," Carla explained. "It was after the affair and Leanne was in our faces playing the aggrieved wife. And Simon hated me."

"Oh my god," Michelle laughed. "He hated you so much!"

"Don't remind me," Carla cringed over the memory. "But we get along just fine now. Which is the point, isn't it, Chelle? Back then, no one wished us well because of how we started. And now…"

"There was no third party involvement for starters."

"Nope."

"And it was bringing a family together, not tearing them apart. Jamie's got her parents in a relationship, living under the same roof, for the first time in her life."

"I can't believe it, Chelle… This time last year, she'd never even met him. And now… now they are as tight as…" Carla held up her hand, her middle finger crossed over her index finger, demonstrating just how close Peter and Jamie were these days.

"I'm really happy for you, Car," Michelle smiled at her best friend but, on noticing the look of disbelief on her face, quickly added, "No, really I am! I know I haven't been Peter's biggest fan after all he put you though, but… he's more than proved himself."

"He has, hasn't he?" Carla agreed with a dreamy smile. "He's still a complete pillock sometimes. But he's my pillock."

The best friends laughed, before taking another long sip from their champagne flutes.

"Hey," Michelle nudged Carla discreetly and nodded. "We've got company."

"Hi, love," Johnny sidled up to Carla with some hesitation. "Michelle."

"Hi Johnny," Michelle greeted Johnny, looking from him to Carla uncertainly. "I'll, umm… I'll just… go…"

Michelle made her escape, leaving Carla and Johnny stood together in an unexpected tête-à-tête; they'd technically resolved their differences but were still navigating the course back to easy everyday conversation.

"This is…" Johnny looked around the room, full of people enjoying themselves. "This is lovely. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Carla smiled at him. "And thanks for coming. Both of you."

"Oh, Jenny wouldn't miss a knees up like this for anything!"

Carla laughed. "Jenny knows how to have a good time, that's for sure."

"It's really lovely seeing you so happy, but…" Johnny began ominously. "I can't help but worry, what with everything that happened in the past –"

"Stop." Carla cut Johnny off unceremoniously. "I know what you're about to say, Johnny. Can I trust Peter? Has Peter changed? He'll only hurt you again. But, you know what? I don't want to hear it, okay? I've heard it all before. And the answers are… Yes, I can trust him. Yes, he has changed. And no, he won't hurt me again."

"Sorry," Johnny apologised before lamenting sadly, "I guess you're not looking for fatherly protection. Not from me anyway."

"Not from anyone," Carla declared. "You do know what I am looking for, don't you?"

"What's that?"

"Someone to walk me down the aisle."

"You mean…?"

"I mean you, you daft beggar," Carla clarified her meaning with a smile. "Look, I know we've been here before."

"Yeah, with Nick."

"Yes, with Nick." Carla still shuddered at the memory. "But this time… this time it's right. This time it's for keeps."

"So, all I have to do is… walk you down the aisle?"

"Yes."

"No need to, I dunno, lock anyone up?" Johnny couldn't help but joke. "No one to keep away from the ceremony?"

"Very funny," Carla whacked him playfully on the arm. "You know what? On second thoughts, I think we'll elope."

"Don't you dare!"

"Hey, sorry Johnny, can I borrow her?" Peter gently pulled Carla away from her conversation with Johnny. "Did you know that she was coming?"

"Who?"

"Her," Peter nodded towards where Simon and Keira were huddled together near the buffet table, deep in conversation.

"Oh, yeah…" Carla confessed, a little flustered at being caught out. "Simon might have mentioned he'd asked her along, as his guest."

"And you didn't think to mention it?"

"I didn't want you to worry –"

"So there is something to worry about?"

"I didn't say that. There's not. Look, they've decided to be friends. That's all."

"Friends?" Peter asked in disbelief. "Says who?"

"Simon," Carla replied. "Simon told me."

"Friends?" Peter still didn't believe it. "Yeah right! Look at them! Go on, look! They are not just friends."

"Peter, does it matter?"

"Does it –?" Peter stared at Carla incredulously. "Yes! It matters. He's already got her pregnant once!"

"So, he'll be more careful in future," Carla reasoned with him. "Peter, you need to stop this. No!" Carla held her finger to Peter's lips before he could speak. "No arguments tonight. You need to trust him."

Peter stared into Carla's eyes in a silent battle of wills while her finger remained pressed up against his lips.

"I guess," he finally conceded as he pulled her finger away from his mouth. "I dunno, I guess he did step up with the whole pregnancy, abortion stuff."

"Yes, he did." Carla stroked Peter's cheek gently. "And I remember distinctly you telling me afterwards that you were proud of him."

"I was– I am!" Peter affirmed. "I am so proud of him, he's grown up so much lately."

"So…?" Carla reached up and, pulling his face gently towards her, gave him a quick peck on the forehead. "Let's leave them to enjoy the party. And then maybe you can enjoy the party as well? Hmm…?"

"Okay," Peter sighed. "You're right."

"When am I ever wrong?" Carla posed this rhetorical question with a cheeky grin. "It's going well, yeah?"

"Yeah…" Peter agreed, wrapping his arm around Carla's waist as they looked around their home that was packed to the rafters with their friends.

"Aww…" Carla instantly melted at the sight that met her eyes. "Would you look at her."

Peter followed Carla's gaze to where Jamie was curled up fast asleep on the sofa, her eyes gently closed as her vision was transformed from reality into dreams, her arms hugging tightly a cushion into her chest, a comfort of sorts, and her mouth set into what would have been a serious pout if it weren't for the corners that were twitched up to reveal just the hint of a smile.

"I'll put her to bed."

Carla watched as Peter strolled to where their daughter was sleeping and gently lifted her into his arms. Jamie instinctively wrapped her arms around her dad's neck and nuzzled her face into his shoulder. The look of pure joy and contentment that Carla saw spread over Peter's face as he held Jamie in his arms made all the struggles they had gone through to get to this point in their lives worth it.

* * *

Peter tucked the edges of Jamie's duvet in around her body and, leaning forward, kissed her softly on the forehead.

"Goodnight sweetheart," he whispered in his low, gravelly voice.

"Ni ni, dada," Jamie murmured sleepily as her eyes flickered briefly but ultimately remained tightly buttoned.

As if on cue, Snowy slipped into the room and leaped onto Jamie's bed, curling up next to his little mistress, and was soon purring contentedly.

Peter padded softly to the door but, unable to tear himself away just yet, turned to watch his daughter as she slept. Sensing the presence of the cat in front of her, she reached her arms around his furry body and cuddled him in close to her.

With a smile, Peter walked out of Jamie's bedroom, pulling the door almost to as he left; he knew that she didn't like the door to be completely shut at night, she wanted to see the light in the hallway and hear the sounds of the rest of the household.

He didn't return to the party straight away; he couldn't resist checking in on Susie as he tip-toed down the hall. He stood at the edge of her cot, gazing down at her, at the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in and out, at her cute little button nose and the delicate eyelashes that threw bewitching shadows on her cheeks as she slept.

From the day that she was born, Peter had loved Susie as his daughter and, even though he now knew that she wasn't his, his heart had overruled his head and he continued to love her in the same fatherly way. He knew he was leaving himself vulnerable to the worst kind of pain, the pain of losing her yet again, but he didn't care; he couldn't deny what he felt when he lifted Susie into his arms, when she clung onto him with her tiny little hands, when she rested her head in the crook of his neck. No, he would never stop loving her. Never.

* * *

"A bit of hush, please."

Slowly, one by one, Carla and Peter's guests stopped their chatter and turned to face Peter.

"Has everyone got a drink? Yes? Good. Well…" Peter sighed deeply, suddenly nervous as all eyes in the room focused on him. "I wanted to say a few words. Don't worry, I'm not gonna prattle on too long. I'm not me dad!"

A smattering of laughter rippled across the room, even Ken chuckled as he beamed proudly at his son.

"Carla, did you want to…?"

Peter motioned for Carla to join him, which she happily did, standing next to him, placing her hand gently on his back, an unspoken encouragement to him.

"I just wanted to thank you all for coming into our home tonight to celebrate with us. Because each and every one of you are so special in some way to me and Carla and the kids. And you know, it's not just our engagement that we're celebrating, it's so much more. Because we're not just a couple anymore, are we?" Peter smiled at Carla. "We're a family."

"With Simon, my son who, I can't believe I'm saying this… has become a young man– that's right, I said man– he has become a young man that I am immensely proud of." Peter smiled at Simon who blushed furiously at the attention, a fact that Peter couldn't help but point out. "Oh, look, I've embarrassed him."

"And then there's Jamie, of course. Simon's little sister. You can't ever forget about Jamie, can you, she's so full of energy and joy… and attitude – takes after her mum there."

"Too right!" Came a cry from one of the gathered guests, prompting laughter throughout.

"But seriously," Peter continued after the laughter had died down. "Up until earlier this year, I had never met Jamie. Can you believe that? Never met my own daughter. And that was completely my fault, don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming anyone but myself. I don't think I need to go into my many many mistakes with you lot, I'm sure you all know about them. But now I've been given a second chance. To be a good father to Jamie. To be a good husband to Carla. I feel… blessed. I really do."

"And finally, there's Susie, the latest addition to our family, who –"

A sudden snort of laughter stopped Peter mid-sentence.

"I'm sorry?" Peter spoke coldly to the as yet unseen person. "Is that funny?"

All of the guests craned their necks, and peered past faces, desperate to know who had laughed.

"It is actually," spoke a familiar voice.

Slowly, guests stepped back from the stranger amongst them, the stranger who had caused such a stir. But they were wrong; this man was no stranger.

"Nick!" Carla exclaimed as her ex-husband stepped out from the parting crowd.

But Nick ignored Carla and spoke directly to Peter.

"Susie's not yours though, is she Peter?"

"I never said –" Peter faltered.

"She's not the latest addition to your family and she never will be."

"What's it got to do with you anyway?" Carla demanded.

"Everything." Eva stepped up to take her place next to Nick, slipping her arm possessively through his. "It's got everything to do with Nick."

Nick stared at the dumbfounded faces in front of him as the corners of his lips curled upwards into an arrogant smile.

"I believe you've all met my wife?" Nick asked with an air of supreme smugness.

"Eva?!"

"That's right," Eva grinned triumphantly. "I'm the new Mrs Tilsley."


	34. Chapter 34: History repeating

**Chapter 34: History repeating**

"No."

Peter was adamant; there was no way he was letting Eva anywhere near Susie, not tonight and, if he had his way, not ever.

"She's my daughter, Peter," Eva insisted. "I've got every right to see her whenever I want."

"You don't!" Peter uttered with fervour. "You abandoned her!"

"Peter, come on," Carla tried to calm Peter down, placing her hand gently on his arm. She looked around at the party guests that remained. Most people had the good grace to leave as soon as was polite after Eva and Nick's surprise return and their shocking announcement that they were now man and wife. But a few stragglers lingered, rubbernecking at the scene playing out in front of them. Carla aimed her death stare at Sean, willing him to leave, but he remained oblivious, happily soaking up the drama; he was in his element.

"No, Carla," Peter turned to scowl at her. "She can't come in here, ruin our party and expect, what? You want us to wake up the baby? And you think you'd be a fit mother with that attitude?"

"Peter," Nick waded in, his tone infuriatingly calm and controlled. "We don't want to disrupt –"

"We!?" Peter scoffed in disbelief. "This has got nothing to do with you!"

"Susie is my step-daugh–"

"What are you even doing here?" Peter asked, his face screwed up, as if he were smelling something rotten. "Who invited you into my home?"

"Please, Peter," Eva begged. "I just want to see her. I've missed her so much, I…" Eva broke off with a sob.

"Peter," Carla nudged him gently, pushing him to do the right thing.

"Alright," Peter capitulated through gritted teeth. "But I don't want you waking her. Just a look, yeah?"

"Yeah," Eva nodded. "Of course. I just wanna see her, that's all."

* * *

Peter softly pushed open the door of Susie's bedroom and stepped inside, the dim light that filtered into the room from the hallway now illuminating Susie's cot.

Suddenly nervous, Eva tentatively approached the cot and looked down, gasping at the first sight she'd had of her daughter in months.

"Hey, baby girl," Eva whispered lovingly as she hung over the side of the cot, reaching out her hand to gently stroke Susie's head.

"Don't!" Peter warned as he witnessed the reunion between mother and daughter. "Don't wake her."

But Eva took no notice of Peter; her complete attention was devoted to the infant that was sleeping so soundly before her eyes. This little innocent, her own sweet angel, who had no clue about the drama she was causing while she was safely tucked away in dreamland.

"Mummy's here, my precious girl," Eva cooed as her finger ran lightly over Susie's cheek. "And I'm never leaving you again. I promise."

Peter watched on with a feeling of dread; the knot that had formed in the pit of his stomach the moment he had laid eyes on Eva that night had grown and twisted, paralysing him with the fear of what Eva's unexpected and frankly unwanted reappearance would mean to his family.

"How has she been?" Eva asked anxiously, turning her attention back to Peter. "Is she meeting all her developmental milestones?"

"Well," Peter began as his gaze flickered down to Susie, the memories of all her accomplishments over the past few months flooding his mind; he couldn't help but feel proud as he recounted her achievements. "She's sitting up by herself now, umm… she's rolling and she's started to crawl. She's pretty quick with her commando crawl, we really have to keep our eyes on her all the time."

"I can't believe she's crawling…"

"Her first teeth are just starting to come through."

"She's getting teeth? Is she on solids?"

"Yeah."

"How about talking?" Eva probed, hungry for every last piece of information Peter could give her about the time she'd missed. "Has she said anything yet?"

"It's mainly just babbling at the moment."

Eva couldn't help but be pleased with this news; she desperately wanted Susie's first word to be 'mama'. "Is she happy? I don't know why I asked that, I mean, how can you tell?"

"You can tell," Peter declared. "And she is. She's happy and thriving. She's perfect. Just perfect." Peter suddenly turned aggressive, the realisation that his perfect Susie might not be his much longer. "Which you would've known if you'd stuck around."

"Peter, please," Eva pleaded with him. "Don't spoil this moment for me."

Eva turned away from Peter, again focusing her attention on Susie. She knew she had a lot to make up for. But she was determined to prove herself to Peter and Carla, to her family, to everyone, that she was going to be a good mum to Susie. But most of all, she wanted to prove herself to her daughter; to Susie.

* * *

"So…" Carla began awkwardly. Peter and Eva's absence meant that Nick and Carla were left alone, facing each other for the first time since that day she'd fled the street in shame after their disastrous wedding. "You and Eva, ey?"

"You're not jealous, are you?" Nick couldn't help but wind Carla up.

Carla merely laughed.

"I could say the same thing about you and Peter," Nick observed drily. "After what he did…"

"It's called forgiveness," Carla explained, her one eyebrow raised in contempt. "I don't suppose you've heard of the concept."

"Right," the sarcasm dripped from Nick's voice.

"And love."

"Love? You are joking, aren't you?"

"Which brings me to the point," Carla ignored Nick's last dig. "What about Leanne?"

"What about her?"

"Oh, come on, Nick," Carla challenged him. "It's always Leanne for you. Always has been, always will. You always end up back with her, doesn't matter who you're with. Now you're getting an innocent baby involved in your games. Seriously?"

"This isn't a game, Carla, this is my life."

"And Eva's. Who you've already dumped for Leanne once before. It's Susie's life as well. And ours come to think of it."

"Ours?"

"Yeah, ours. Me and Peter and Si and Jamie."

"And Susie, right? A happy little family?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Only one problem, Carla," Nick raised his eyebrow as he stared Carla down with that cool calmness Carla found infuriating. "She's not yours."

Carla didn't have a comeback for this; she knew Nick was right. So she changed the subject. "You didn't answer my question."

"Which was?"

"What about Leanne?"

"That's a good question. _Nick_."

Carla and Nick turned around, shocked; Leanne, obviously informed by a loose-lipped party guest what had gone down at the gathering, had come to find out the truth for herself.

"Lee –"

"Don't you dare 'Lee' me!" Leanne glared at Nick, her arms held rigid by her sides, her fists clenched, a snarl curling her lips. "I wanna know if it's true?"

"It is."

Leanne turned as Eva entered the room, followed closely by Peter.

"You spiteful cow!" Leanne sneered at her half-sister.

"Oh, whatever, Leanne." Eva said coolly as she rejoined her husband, placing her hand gently on his arm, a gesture that spoke volumes. "You lost, get over it."

"You were always jealous of me!" Leanne spat at Eva. "Always wanted what I had!"

"That's the thing though, innit Leanne. You didn't have Nick. If you had Nick, he wouldn't have run away from you. You've got no one to blame but –"

Eva never finished her verbal assault; she found herself grappling with Leanne who had launched at her, attacking her in a fury, her hands tugging at her hair, her fingers digging into her back as they wrestled for dominance.

"Hey, hey!" Peter waded in, trying to break up the cat fight. "Enough! Nick! A bit of help!"

Nick grabbed Eva around the waist and pulled her away from Leanne who, if it weren't for Peter holding her back, would've prolonged her barrage of violence, both from her tongue as well as her fists.

"Get your hands off me!" Leanne screeched at Peter, wresting her arms free of his grip.

"Alright, alright," Peter attempted to mollify Leanne. "Just… calm down, okay?"

"I'm perfectly calm," Leanne growled through gritted teeth as she faced off with Eva.

"You're a psycho!" Eva shrieked. "A bitter, twisted old… slapper!"

"You! Bitch!"

Peter once again grabbed onto Leanne to stop her from launching yet another attack on Eva. "Get her out of here!" He yelled at Nick. "Go on! Get out!"

"I'm sorry, Lee," Nick spoke with sincerity for the first time; he spoke directly to Leanne as if there were no one else in the room. "I'm really sorry."

"Whatever," Leanne sneered as she looked Nick up and down with disdain. "You're nothing to me. Now, go on, get out and take your wife home. You two deserve each other."

* * *

"I can't believe Eva would be so stupid to marry Nick of all people."

Carla looked up at Peter curiously. All of their party guests had finally left and they were busy cleaning the mess that remained; while Carla was stacking the dishwasher in the kitchen, Peter was throwing rubbish into a large black bin liner somewhat aggressively.

"Why do you find it so hard to imagine someone wanting to marry Nick?"

"What?" Peter stared at her incredulously. "This is you trying to justify your bad choices, is it?"

"Look," Carla let Peter's insult slide for now. "I know you've had your issues with him in the past and I get it, I really do, but… He's not all bad. And he's got a lot to offer a woman."

"Hmm…" Peter shook his head at Carla in disbelief. "I can't stand the thought of Susie being raised by that man. It's Simon all over again."

"It's not the same, Peter," Carla tried to reason with him. "For starters, Susie isn't your daughter."

"Thanks for reminding me." Peter couldn't believe that Carla was taking Eva and Nick's side.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be harsh," Carla sighed at Peter's wilfulness. "But Susie is Eva's daughter. That baby belongs with her mum."

"Not that mum. And definitely not that step-dad."

"I know you love Susie. I do too."

"We're the ones that have looked after her, Carla. The ones that have loved her and kept her safe when her mum was god knows where. Going around marrying losers it seems. It was us, not Eva. Susie should stay with us."

"Because we looked after her for a few months?"

"Yes!" Peter was obstinate to the end. "And because we love her."

"Just like Nick loved Jamie."

"What? Where the hell did that come from?"

"The fact is, when you weren't around, Nick was the one who helped me raise Jamie. No–" Carla raised her finger to Peter who had opened his mouth, ready to argue. "No, listen to me. Alright? Nick was the one who helped look after her, who fed her, who changed her dirty nappies, who walked the floor with her in the middle of the night when she wouldn't settle. Who loved her. He stepped into the role of her father. And he did a wonderful job."

"Are you deliberately trying to hurt me? You know I hate myself for not being there for Jamie."

"I'm not saying this to criticise you, Peter."

"Well it doesn't sound like it."

"I'm saying this because Nick was a father figure to Jamie for a lot longer than you've been one to Susie. But that doesn't make him her father. That doesn't give him any rights over her. You're her father. That will never change. Just like Eva being Susie's mother will never change. Just like, no matter how long we look after Susie while Eva sorts herself out, Susie's place will always be with her mum."

"I can't believe you're taking their side."

"I'm taking Susie's side, Peter. You know I'm right."

Peter didn't answer; he merely turned away from Carla and continued filling his bag with rubbish.

* * *

"What were you apologising to her for?" Eva demanded as she and Nick walked through the crisp and clear night over the cobbles towards No. 8 Coronation Street. They were both secretly dreading the scene that awaited them; breaking the news to Nick's mum that they were married. "Leanne was the one who attacked me, remember?"

"It must be hard for her," Nick reasoned calmly. "Seeing us together."

"Hard for her!" Eva scoffed. "She was the one that drove you away, she's got no right to complain now."

"I feel bad, I did leave her high and dry –"

"Do you still have feelings for her?"

Nick didn't answer; Eva looked across at him, at the way his jaw was clenched tight and his eyes were focused like a laser beam directly ahead of him into the dark night.

"Nick?" Eva stopped in her tracks and waited for Nick to summon the courage to face her. "You need to be honest with me or _this_ isn't going to work."

"Okay…" Nick began hesitantly, fearful of Eva's reaction; she had an old habit of overreacting when it came to him and other women and he knew full well that old habits die hard. Him and Leanne were conclusive evidence of that. "Me and Leanne, we've got a lot of history…"

"I can't believe this is happening again." Eva pressed her palms to her forehead in horror at what she was hearing. "I thought you'd changed, that you were over her–"

"Hey, hey," Nick soothed her, reassured her with a gentle caress of her cheek. "Please, Eva, hear me out."

"I'm warning you, Nick. I won't play second best, not to her."

"I know." Nick took a deep breath as he tried to explain. "Leanne, she was my first love. And I think I'll always care about her."

"Tell me one thing, Nick. And be honest. Do you want to be with Leanne? Do you want her back?"

"No." Nick didn't hesitate to reply, to reassure.

"Because you always get your heart broken with her."

"I know."

"Do you want that to happen again?"

Eva stepped close to Nick, her face close to his, her lips hovering close to his lips; he could feel her hot breath on his mouth.

"No."

"You know I'd never hurt you like she has, time and time again."

Eva ran her fingers up Nick's arm, her nails gliding smoothly along his skin, causing a shiver to run down his back.

"I know."

"You can trust me, Nick."

She kissed him softly on his cheek, then on the corner of his mouth, and finally on his lips.

"That's why I married you. Why I chose you."

"Then keep away from Leanne," Eva demanded as she took a step back from Nick, looking him directly in the eye. "I mean it, Nick. It's not just me you'll be hurting this time, I need to think about Susie."

"I promise, I'm done with Leanne. It's me and you and Susie. For keeps."

* * *

"I can't just sit here doing nothing," Peter declared as he made to get up from the sofa. "It's driving me mad!"

"Hey!" Carla gently but firmly pulled Peter back down to sit by her side. "Just relax, they'll be here any minute."

"I can't do this, Carla, I can't!"

"Ssshhh…" Carla whispered to him, reaching her hand up to the back of his neck and gently massaging the tension away.

"Oh, that feels good," Peter sighed as he began to unwind, rolling his shoulders as he stretched his muscles, until–

_Bzzzz Bzzzz_

"It's going to be okay," Carla reassured Peter with a peck on the lips, her hand briefly caressing his cheek. "I'll let them in."

Carla rose from the sofa and hurried over to the security intercom.

"Hello?" She spoke into the intercom. "Yeah, come up."

It wasn't long before Carla heard footsteps coming from the lift lobby and, opening the front door, ushered their visitors inside.

"Hi Carla," Eva greeted her warmly. "Thanks for this."

"Of course, don't mention it." Carla smiled at Eva. "Come in, sit down. Nick." Carla greeted her ex-husband a little less enthusiastically.

Soon enough the unlikely foursome were settled in the plush and squishy cushions of the sofas and armchairs of Carla and Peter's living room, each nursing a brew and exchanging pleasantries, unsure of how to proceed.

"So…" Eva was the first to broach the sensitive topic. "About Susie…"

But, before anyone could answer, their heads turned, as if controlled like marionettes by the same length of string, to peer at the newcomer that had burst into the room; Jamie had run in from the bedroom wing, at first oblivious to the new arrivals in her home. But then she saw them; she stopped dead in her tracks, momentarily confused by the new faces staring at her, until–

"Nicky!"

Jamie ran towards Nick who rose to his feet in anticipation, a wide smile on his face.

"Hello, princess!"

Nick reached down and lifted Jamie high up into the air; Jamie squealed with delight and, as he lowered her down, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He squeezed her tight in an affectionate hug before placing her feet back on the ground. As he sank back down into the depths of the armchair, Jamie crawled onto his lap and settled in for one of her 'chats'.

"Where did you go, Nick?"

"I had to go away for a while, honey." Nick explained. "But I missed you so much."

"My daddy lives with us now."

"I know, how do you like that?"

"I love it!" Jamie took the opportunity to turn around and grin at Peter, before turning back to Nick with her other big news. "I got a cat!"

"A cat! No way!"

"Can we get on with things?" Peter gruffly interrupted the reunion. "Jamie, go to your room."

"But daddy!" Jamie whined, staring at Peter with the expression of one hard done by. "I wanna talk to Nick."

"Go to your room!" Peter ordered his daughter, his tone harsher than Jamie was used to. "Now!"

Jamie pouted for all she was worth and was on the verge of refusing to leave the room, when Carla rose and approached her daughter, her hand extended.

"Come on, sweetheart."

Jamie, close to tears at bearing the brunt of her dad's outburst, lifted her arms in the air, a clear signal to Carla that she wanted to be carried. Peter watched on with an intense, if altogether unfounded, jealousy as Carla leaned down, her face moving close to Nick's as she did, and picked up their daughter. Peter fought to control his building rage as he watched what was an innocent moment; a moment that Peter couldn't help but interpret as Nick yet again wanting to take something that was his.

"I'll bring Susie back with me, okay?"

"Thanks Carla," Eva smiled gratefully at her.

* * *

Peter watched as Carla re-entered the room a few minutes later, carrying Susie in her arms. He watched as Carla walked to where Eva was sitting and then watched as she laid Susie gently in her mother's arms.

"Hey!" Eva greeted her daughter with wonder, kissing her softly on the wispy curls that covered her head. "Do you remember me?" She cooed. "I'm your mummy."

This was the last straw for Peter; without a word, he rushed from the room, taking refuge on the balcony. He knew he was going to cry and couldn't bear to let anyone witness him in so vulnerable a state, especially not Nick flaming Tilsley; he'd rather die before that happened.

Carla. Carla wouldn't judge him. He wanted Carla.

And then he felt it; the touch of her hand on his back, the warmth of her body next to his, her arms wrapping around him, her lips pressed against his cheek. He let out a small, pathetic sob and clutched onto her arm.

"It's okay," Carla whispered to him, pulling him around to face her, cradling his head in her hands as he dropped his cheek to her shoulder. "It's gonna be okay."

"It's not," Peter sobbed. "It's not okay, Carla. I can't do it, I can't let her go, I just can't."

"Turn around…" Carla instructed him gently.

"No," Peter refused, his face buried in Carla's embrace.

"Peter," Carla insisted. "Look. Look at them together."

Reluctantly, Peter allowed Carla to direct his gaze through the glass balcony door and into the living room, to the sofa where Eva was sitting with Susie cradled in her arms.

"What do you see? Hey? A mother with her daughter. A daughter that she adores, that's obvious, Peter, even you must see that. Mother and daughter together. How they should be. Just like you and me, our place is here, with Jamie and with Si. Susie's place is with Eva."

As much as it hurt, Peter forced himself to look at Eva and Susie. He forced himself to think of Susie and only Susie. Not himself. He knew what was the right thing to do, he always had done, deep down. But he couldn't face it, he couldn't face that kind of pain, not again. But he knew he had to force himself to face it. Before he lost more than Susie.


	35. Chapter 35: My family

**Chapter 35: My family**

"Oh, hi Carla," Ken greeted his almost daughter-in-law. "Come in, come in."

"Thanks, Ken," Carla stepped over the threshold of No. 1 Coronation Street. "How has she been today?"

"Jamie? She has been an absolute angel as always."

"Mummy! Mummy!" Hearing her mum's voice at the front door, Jamie came running down the hallway, excited to be reunited after a whole day apart.

"Hi sweetheart," Carla greeted her daughter, sweeping her up in her arms for a cuddle. "Did you have a good time with grandad?"

"Mmm hmm," Jamie nodded enthusiastically. "I did out loud reading with grandad, and then we went to Red Rec to walk Eccles, and then we went to the shops, I wanted chocolate but grandad said I had to have yoghurt and fruit, and then we made ham and salad sandwiches for lunch and yoghurt and fruit for after. And then we–"

But whatever they had done next would have to wait; Jamie abruptly turned and ran back into the kitchen.

"How is everything at home?" Ken asked Carla in a low voice, not wanting to be overheard by Jamie. "How's Peter coping?"

"Oh, Ken, he's putting on a brave face, but… I dunno. He's at home now, packing up Susie's things."

"What?" Ken asked, stunned by this revelation. "You mean she's going today?"

"Yeah, Eva and Nick are coming round tonight to pick her up. You know they're moving into their new flat today?"

"Nick and Eva," Ken shook his head in disbelief. "I still can't get my head around that one."

"Tell me about it. But he swears he's not messing her around so… if they're happy and they provide Susie with a safe and loving home, then who am I to argue?"

"And how are you feeling about everything?"

"Me?" Carla asked in genuine surprise. "You know, you're the first person to ask how I'm coping. Everyone is so focused on Peter, making sure he's okay… Sorry," Carla wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall from her eye.

"Don't apologise," Ken murmured as he gripped Carla's hand in his. "You're allowed to be sad as well. You don't have to be strong all the time."

"Oh, but Ken, I do. Peter's already falling apart, if I don't keep it together…"

"Look mummy!" Jamie called out as she returned from the kitchen, proudly clutching a painting in her hand. "Look what I painted!"

"Oh, darling," Carla gushed. "That's beautiful. What are these…?"

"They're sheep, mummy," Jamie explained matter-of-fact. "And that's the farmer. And all this is his farm. That's his farmhouse. Grandad says it's the, umm… the… Grandad?" Jamie peered up at Ken. "What style did you say this was?"

"Pastoral, sweetheart." Ken began to explain in his typical bombastic manner. "It was an artistic movement that flourished in England during the eighteenth–"

"Thanks again, Ken," Carla cut him off, not in the mood for an art history lesson. "Go and grab your bag, Jamie."

Jamie obediently ran once again back to the kitchen to pack up her things, while Ken turned his attention back to Carla.

"I know you want to support Peter," Ken sympathised. "And that's great, I'm all for that. But, if _you_ need anything, someone to talk to, complain about Peter even. You call me okay?"

"Thanks, Ken."

* * *

"Simon!" The moment she and Carla had entered their flat, Jamie ran up to the dining table where Simon was busy with his homework and started unpacking her bag, excited to show her brother what she'd been up to. "Look what I did today."

"Jamie!" Simon wasn't interested; his sister's presence merely irritated him. "I'm trying to study."

"Mummy!" Jamie turned to Carla with a scowl, ready to complain.

"Leave him alone, Jamie. Go to your room and unpack your bag."

"But–" Jamie's lips formed into what was becoming a commonly sighted pout around their home.

"Now!" Carla watched as Jamie stomped off to her bedroom, calling after her, "and put any dirty clothes in the laundry basket please."

Carla turned her attention to Simon who was still unsuccessfully trying to find the peace and quiet to study.

"Is your dad in?"

"Nope."

"Do you know where he's gone?"

"Nope."

"Well, how long ago did he leave?"

"I dunno. He wasn't here when I got home."

"Which was…?"

"Umm… half hour, forty-five minutes tops."

Confused, but not alarmed just yet by Peter's absence, Carla hurried into Susie's bedroom only to find the infant's belongings half-packed, her clothes and toys strewn about the room.

She quickly pulled her phone out of her pocket and placed a call to Peter.

"_Hi, you've reached Peter. I'm not available right now, but if you leave a message I'll get back to you."_

"Peter!" Carla hollered into the phone. "Where the hell are you!?"

After hanging up, she called again.

"_Hi, you've reached Peter. I'm not available right now, but if you leave a message I'll get back to you."_

"Sorry for yelling," Carla spoke softly this time. "It's me by the way. I'm just worried. Eva and Nick are gonna be here soon and you're not here. And Susie's not here. Listen, Peter, whatever you're thinking of doing, please don't. Please… just come home. I love you."

* * *

"Si, I need you to look after Jamie," Carla informed her step-son as she strode back into the living room. "I'm going out."

"But–"

"No buts, I don't have time."

"Can't she go with you?"

"No."

"But I need to study!"

"Simon!" Carla snapped; she yelled, exasperated. "Can you please just do me this one favour for once in your life?"

"Fine!" Simon gave in, but not without a good dose of teenage attitude. "You're the boss."

"Si, I'm sorry but, this is important."

"I said it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"She'll probably just play in her room."

"Whatever."

"Thanks, Si. Really. I appreciate it."

* * *

"_Sorry for yelling. It's me by the way. I'm just worried. Eva and Nick are gonna be here soon and you're not here. And Susie's not here. Listen, Peter, whatever you're thinking of doing, please don't. Please… just come home. I love you."_

Peter hung up his phone and, slipping it into his pocket, turned his attention back to Susie who gazed up at him from her stroller.

"Nothing to worry about, angel, it's just your mama fretting."

He reached into the stroller and lifted her out, cuddling her little body close to his.

"Now, what shall do? Hey?" Peter spoke softly to Susie, bouncing her gently in his arms. "Shall we have a go on the swings? Yeah? Would you like that?"

Peter carried Susie over to the swing set and eased her into the toddler seat, holding her steady as he gently pushed the swing while Susie soared through the air. A literal angel, Peter thought; his angel.

* * *

"Jamie!" Simon yelled to his sister who was curled up on the sofa with Snowy, watching her favourite afternoon cartoon. "Turn that down!"

But Jamie ignored him; her eyes remained focused on the TV as she nuzzled her face into the soft fur covering Snowy's body.

"Jamie!" Simon stood up and walked towards the sofa. "I'm trying to study!"

"I'm watching TV!" Jamie retorted.

"Give that to me!" Simon lunged for the TV remote that Jamie was clutching, but she snatched it out of his reach. "You are in so much trouble."

"Am not!"

"I'm telling dad on you when he gets home."

"I'm telling on you first."

"Don't be so stupid, you're such a brat!"

_Bzzzzz Bzzzzz_

"Go to your room!" Simon ordered, swiping the remote control from Jamie's hands and turning off the TV. He glared at Jamie until she left the room and then hurried to the security intercom.

"Hello? … Oh, okay, they're umm … They're not here right now … You wanna wait? … I guess that's okay, yeah, come up."

* * *

Peter gazed up at the sky, the clear blue sky with the bright sun that, even this late in the year, was casting enough of a glow to take the chill out of the air.

He'd spread a rug on the grass of the Red Rec when Susie had got tired of playing and had laid her down next to him.

He closed his eyes, glorying in the sun's rays, a brilliant shade of orange during what was commonly called the golden hour; that mystical hour before the sun dipped below the horizon, when suddenly the sun was blocked from the sky. Peter opened his eyes to find that he had been discovered.

"You're blocking my sun," Peter informed Carla as she stared down at him.

So she lay down beside him, her body stretched out, her face towards his.

"How's this?" she asked.

"Better," he said as he turned his face to look at her, imploring her. "Don't say it. Please."

"Say what?"

"It's time to go home. Time to face the music."

"I'm not gonna say it," Carla promised.

"Good."

"Because you know that's what you have to do. Hey?" She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, her thumb softly caressing his cheek. "Come on, it's gonna be dark soon."

"I'm not stupid, you know, Carla."

"I never said–"

"I know I have to give her back, I know that. I just wanted some more time with her. Just a little bit more."

Carla looked at him, at the pleading in his eyes. She wanted to give him everything his heart desired. And what it desired right now was time.

"Do you mind if I join the two of you?"

"I couldn't think of anything I'd enjoy more," Peter leaned towards Carla and kissed her softly on the lips.

* * *

Simon sat awkwardly on the sofa, glancing at his guests, the newlyweds, Mr and Mrs Nick Tilsley.

"When did they say they'd be home?" Nick questioned him.

Simon shrugged his shoulders, "I dunno."

"Where did they go?" He pressed on, determined to get some information out of the lad.

"Sorry, no idea."

"But they knew we were coming, didn't they?" Eva continued the interrogation, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"'Spect so," Simon said with another shrug of his shoulders.

"But it doesn't make any sense, why would they leave when they knew we were coming."

"Oh my god!" Simon banged his head back against the sofa cushion dramatically. "I. Don't. Know."

"You don't think…" Eva whispered to Nick. "They've, I dunno…"

"What?"

"I don't know, I just… I'd be a little less uneasy if I knew where my daughter was."

Disgruntled at having been ordered to her bedroom by her brother, Jamie decided on that moment to make her reappearance in the living room. She marched up to the sofa and sat down, determined to stay.

"Hello," Jamie greeted Nick and Eva.

"Hi, sweetheart," Eva cooed. "How are you today?"

"Simon called me a brat."

"Jamie!" Simon exclaimed indignantly.

"Oh, right," Eva tried to hide her amusement. "And why did he do that?"

"Because I wanted to watch TV."

"Jamie," Nick asked his former step-daughter kindly. "Do you know where your mum and dad are?"

"Yes," Jamie nodded.

"No you don't!" Simon interjected with a roll of his eyes.

"I do!" Jamie insisted. "Mummy's gone to look for daddy."

"Why do you say that, darlin'?" Eva asked.

"Because I heard mummy in Susie's bedroom. It was after we got home from grandad's, and mummy was on the phone to daddy."

"What did she say?"

"She said 'Where the hell are you?'–"

"Jamie!"

"It's not swearing if mummy says it," Jamie defended herself against her brother's condemnation before resuming her story. "And then she said, umm... something about… umm… she said not to do something. She said 'don't'? I think."

"Right," Nick turned to Simon. "You need to call them now and get them to come home."

* * *

Carla held Susie, her hands gripping her body firmly, as she 'walked' her along the rug, every now and then bouncing her up in the air with a "wheeeeeeee…".

"I can't believe I'm not going to see her first steps," Peter lamented, the happy moment suddenly turning sombre.

"Hey," Carla tried to rally his spirits. "Don't think about that right now, yeah? Right now, she's still here, right in front of you."

"That's true," Peter smiled as he reached out and tickled Susie's tummy, delighting in the giggle that rang out across the Red Rec. But soon enough he was dragged back to reality with the sound of his phone ringing. "It's Si," Peter announced as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"You better answer," Carla advised. "I left him at home looking after Jamie and, well, he wasn't too pleased about it."

"I can imagine," Peter grinned at the thought. He accepted the call. "Si, we really appreciate–"

"Dad, Nick and Eva are here."

"Oh, right…"

"They said you were meant to meet them here?"

"Give it to me," Nick snatched the phone out of Simon's hand. "Peter?"

"Oh, hi Nick."

"Don't you dare 'hi Nick' me. Where are you?"

"Yeah, sorry, we got delayed in town. You know how it is."

"No, I don't. We had an arrangement. I don't know what you're playing at –"

"Hang on a minute, Nick," Peter protested at the implication. "You're talking like I'm running off with her."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time you've tried to abscond with a kid you had no legal rights over."

"That was different. He was my son."

"If you bring her back now," Nick explained, his voice dripping with condescension. "We won't say anything more about it."

"We haven't taken her!" Peter exclaimed, rapidly losing patience with Nick's attitude. "We're running late is all!"

"You get back here now, okay. Or we're calling the police."

With his warning echoing in Peter's ears, Nick ended the call.

"I can't stand that bloke," Peter declared, tossing his phone onto the rug to demonstrate his dislike. "He only thinks we've gone and, I dunno, kidnapped Susie!"

"I can kinda see where he's coming from," Carla conceded. "Don't look at me like that, I'm just looking at it from his point of view."

"I wouldn't, you know."

"I know."

"I love Susie," Peter declared. "But I love you and Si and Jamie more. I wouldn't risk our family for… It's just hard to let her go again."

"Come 'ere," Carla said as she pulled Peter into her arms, enveloping him in her embrace, gently stroking his back, her lips pressed into his hair. He clung onto her, his arms wrapped around her, his head resting on her breast. He wished they could stay like this forever, but he knew their time today was running out. Carla knew it too. "Peter, it's time, we need to go."

* * *

"I'm so sorry, guys," Carla exclaimed breathlessly as they entered the flat. "My fault entirely, I totally lost track of time in town."

"Well, you're here now," Eva said, willing to be generous and understanding as she hurried to greet her daughter. "That's all that matters. Hey there, angel." Eva picked Susie up and cradled her in her arms.

"Yeah, you're right," Carla agreed; she couldn't help but smile at the sight of the mother and daughter reunion, no matter how much it hurt her or Peter; this was how it should be. "Si, did you offer our guests a drink? Go stick the kettle on, will you?"

"Oh, Carla, we can't stop. We want to get Susie back home straight away."

"Yeah, that's the thing," Carla explained with a guilty smile. "I didn't quite get around to finishing packing up her stuff. It won't take me long."

"I'll do it," Peter offered quietly.

"No, it's okay," Carla whispered to him. "You don't have to put yourself through that."

"I want to."

Carla looked Peter in the eye, searching them. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Peter nodded.

Carla smiled at him, reaching out to him and gently caressing his cheek, before he headed towards the bedroom, decidedly downcast.

"Is he okay?" Eva asked with concern.

"Peter?" Carla asked, feigning surprise. "Yeah, he's great. Si, kettle."

Simon obediently shuffled off to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath about homework and annoying sisters and the general hardships of his life.

"So…" Carla began as she plonked herself casually down into an armchair while Jamie took the opportunity to crawl into her mum's lap for a cuddle. "You'll be living round the corner I understand?"

"Yeah," Eva nodded excitedly. "We've got a flat on Tile Street. It's two bedrooms, a little balcony. Perfect for the three of us. You know you can come round and see Susie whenever you want. I mean, she is your niece. That's never gonna change."

"Thank you," Carla smiled gratefully at Eva. "That means a lot. And Jamie will want to see her cousin, won't you, honey?"

Jamie nodded, insisting, "Susie's family, mummy."

Family, Carla thought. An ever-expanding family full of wonderful friends… and enemies, as she glanced quickly at Nick, wondering how he and Peter could ever rub along without clashing. But that's what they would have to do, they'd have to rub along somehow, because once again, in a strange twist of fate, they were family.

* * *

"Thank you so much for everything," Eva spoke with sincerity; Susie's bags had been packed and the new family unit, Eva, Nick and Susie, were ready to depart, ready to start their new life together. "I really am grateful."

"It's been our pleasure, believe me," Carla answered; she knew Peter couldn't. "You know where we are if you ever need a babysitter."

"Thanks," Eva smiled. "Say bye bye, Susie."

"Bye!"

Everyone put on their happy voice for Susie, farewelling her, letting her go.

And then she was gone. And Peter fell apart. He crumpled down, sobbing, distraught at the loss of Susie for the second time.

Simon was the first to reach him; he wrapped his arms around Peter's neck and rested his forehead against his dads.

"It's okay, dad," Simon whispered hoarsely, the loss of a baby he'd come to love like a sister affecting him more than he'd care to admit. "You've still got us."

Peter let out a strange little laugh-cry and kissed his son on the cheek. "And that makes me the luckiest man in the world."

"Daddy!" Jamie came running up to Peter, wanting in on the action and hugging her dad and her brother.

Finally, Carla approached her little family with a smile; she caught Peter's eye and knew they would be just fine with each other. She kissed him softly on the lips and murmured, "Luckiest family in the world, I say." And she wrapped her arms around all three of them; her family.


	36. Chapter 36: Second chances

**Chapter 36: Second chances**

Peter paced the floor, up and down he walked, lost in his own world, counting down the minutes, the seconds, until he could reasonably hope for news. If only he could understand what was going on. Damn the French, Peter condemned an entire nation unfairly. It wasn't the fault of the French that this had happened on their soil, or that Peter was unable to communicate with them, to question them, to find out if... He couldn't think about that 'if', not in French, not in English, not in any language known to man. So he did the only thing he could; he paced.

In the row of hard plastic chairs flanking one wall of the waiting room, Simon and Jamie sat huddled close together. Simon had wrapped his arm around his sister's shoulders as she whimpered, trying to comfort her as best he could. She leaned her head against him and allowed the tears to fall unchecked down her cheeks.

As Peter turned, ready to pace the floor yet again, he caught sight of his children. It was if he had temporarily forgotten they existed. Until now, when he saw them, completely bereft. Suddenly he felt a little less useless; if nothing else, he could comfort them.

He strode to where they were sitting and, without a word, lifted Jamie up from her seat. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, sitting back down next to Simon.

Safe now in her father's arms, Jamie's sobs only increased, her despair in the face of what was happening to her family a seemingly insurmountable obstacle to her unformed mind.

"Shhh..." Peter whispered to her, stroking her hair gently. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay."

"I– want– mummy!" Jamie wailed, her words coming in great gasps through her sobs.

"I know, baby, I know."

Peter wrapped an arm around Simon's shoulder and pulled him in close. "How're you doing, son?"

Simon merely nodded, he didn't trust himself to speak.

"Monsieur Barlow?"

Peter looked up at the doctor who had just entered the waiting room, his face solemn as he looked upon the little family in their distress. His heart began to beat, hard and fast, as if it were about to leap out of his chest. What this strange French doctor was about to tell him had the power to heal his soul or destroy him forever.

_Earlier that day…_

Carla sighed, a soft contented sigh, as she floated in the warm waters of the Mediterranean just off the coast of the French Riviera where her and Peter's yacht was currently anchored.

She basked in the heat of the sun that beamed down over her body, bathing it in light and life, as she gently flopped her hands in and out of the water.

She reflected idly on the past two weeks; two weeks of pure bliss as they had sailed around the Mediterranean, their first sailing adventure as a family. Peter had revelled in teaching Simon and Jamie the basics of sailing, instructing them on how to tie nautical knots, how to read the wind, how to tack, when to duck to avoid being knocked into the water as the boom swung across the deck. He had been in his element. And it had taken his mind off the fact that, back at home, Susie was now living around the corner with another family; her real family.

Carla gasped as she felt a spray of water drench her face; a high-pitched giggle letting her know exactly who was responsible.

"Oi! You!" She turned to face her daughter who was laughing as she splashed her mum again and again. Carla splashed her right back, joining in on the laughter. "I'm gonna get you!" she declared light-heartedly as she rolled over onto her tummy and pushed her arms through the water, displacing it to either side of her body with a strong breaststroke motion, as she gave chase to Jamie.

Jamie squealed with glee as she splashed her arms and legs in a very ineffectual crawl stroke; Carla soon caught up with her and, as she playfully wrapped her arms around her daughter, pretending to be a sea monster who'd caught her, Jamie's excited screams echoed off the water and bounced back off the distant towering cliffs of red rock.

Simon swam nearby, face down in the water, testing out his new set of goggles and snorkel, exploring the underwater world below; the fish and other sea life, the clumps of seaweed that floated by, the rocks and the sand on the seabed below.

"Hey!" Peter hollered down to them from the yacht deck. "You lot! Hurry up, ey! We're gonna be late."

"Stop stressing, babe," Carla called up to him as she lazily rolled over onto her back, her hands dipping in and out of the water as she floated past where Peter was stood looking down at her impatiently. "We're on holidays."

"Holidays or not, we're getting married in just over two hours. And I know how long you take to get ready, so…"

"Okay, okay," Carla placated him. "I'm coming."

* * *

"What's the time?" Peter asked Simon for what felt to Simon like the millionth time.

"About thirty seconds since you last asked me," Simon replied with a roll of his eyes before focusing back on the phone in his hands. "They'll be ready when they're ready, dad, you know there's no hurrying them two."

"Yeah, that's true," Peter agreed with furrowed brow. Still, he didn't want to be too late, not with the surprise he had planned. "Who are you texting?"

Simon glanced up at Peter, a guilty look on his face.

"Keira?" Peter guessed correctly. "Hey, don't look like that, you can text whoever you want."

"Really?" Simon looked quizzically at his dad. "I thought you'd be upset after… you know."

"The pregnancy?" Peter asked. "You're allowed to talk about it, you know."

"It just feels, I dunno, like something I should be ashamed of."

"Please don't feel like that. It happened. Learn from it… please learn from it." Simon and Peter both laughed at this plea. "And then move on a better, stronger person."

"Thanks dad," Simon smiled at Peter gratefully. "Oh, hey, here they come."

Father and son both turned to look at the hatch leading to the yachts below-deck living area as first Jamie, then Carla appeared.

They were both dressed like their own versions of sunshine and happiness, Peter thought. He couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he watched his daughter, her smile so wide it outshone the brightness of her dress; a vivid shade of fuchsia, with thick straps over her shoulders, shirring around the chest, and then a maxi skirt that fell over her feet so that just a peep of her silver sandals could be seen. Her hair was pushed back off her face with a headband in a matching shade of fuchsia.

"Hey, princess," Peter greeted Jamie. "Don't you look beautiful."

Jamie spun around on deck, delighting in the way her skirt filled with air and swished around her legs as she twirled.

"Mummy looks beautiful," Jamie declared.

Peter didn't doubt it. Soon enough the proof of Jamie's assertion appeared through the hatch.

Carla normally shied away from wearing bright colours in her everyday life but, today, here on holiday on the Côte d'Azur, for the happiest of occasions, she had opted for a colour that matched how she felt. A dress in billowing yellow silk, cinched in at the waist by a wide yellow leather statement belt, the skirt full and gathered, with a simple halter neck top that showed off Carla's toned and tanned arms. Her hair was styled in soft waves that tumbled down over her shoulders, the ends sun-kissed into an even lighter shade than usual.

Carla smiled at Peter as she stood on deck; for a moment he was speechless, then "Wow" was all he could say.

"It's alright then?" Carla asked with a bashful smile.

"You look great!" Simon chipped in. "Both of you."

"Thanks Si," Carla kissed Simon on the cheek before approaching Peter, her eyes locked on his.

"You're perfect," Peter said, his voice low and husky as his gaze moved down her body and then back up to her face. "Are you ready then? Ready to become Mrs Barlow?"

"More than," Carla nodded with a sigh. It had been a long road to get to this point but, finally, they had made it.

* * *

The breeze whipped against their faces as Peter skilfully manoeuvred the inflatable dinghy through the still waters from where their yacht was anchored offshore towards the marina.

Carla's gaze was naturally drawn to the clifftop of the peninsula that provided a natural protection to the bay they were anchored in. It was on that clifftop where a celebrant was waiting for them; where a local florist had organised for a simple wooden arch to be decorated with masses of delicate white peonies and draped with white chiffon.

At the marina, a car would be waiting to drive them to the clifftop. Within the hour, she, Carla Connor, would be Carla Barlow again.

* * *

"Wait here," Peter instructed Carla, an excited grin on his face.

"But –"

"Just wait," he pleaded with her. "I promise, it'll be worth it."

Carla stood with Simon and Jamie on the road verge out front of the marina and watched as Peter jogged through the parking lot to… she wasn't sure where he was going, but she was willing to humour him. Nothing was going to spoil her mood today of all days.

"Where's daddy gone, mummy?" Jamie asked as she peered up at Carla.

"Umm… I don't know, darling, it's a surprise. Do you know Simon?"

"Me?" Simon shrugged his shoulders. "Not a clue."

The loud rumbling of a powerful engine, almost shaking the very pavement they were standing on, caught their attention. Their heads turned, drawn to the sound which soon became a sight; Peter driving a sleek and shimmering gunmetal grey Maserati sports car.

"Wow!" Simon gasped at the sight.

"Wow is right," Carla agreed. "She's a beauty."

With a smile on her face and her gaze focused on Peter, Carla stepped forward as he guided the car into the parking spot opposite.

"Carla!"

But Simon's warning cry came too late. She didn't see the scooter that appeared as if out of nowhere and disappeared just as quick. But not before it clipped her as she stepped off the verge, sweeping her off her feet and slamming her back down onto the hard pavement.

"Carla!" Peter ran across the road to where Carla lay lifeless, blood trickling down her forehead from a gash at her hairline. "Carla?" Peter fell to his knees beside her body, cradling her head in his hands. "Baby?" But there was no response. For Carla, there was no more consciousness, no more understanding, and no more hearing her name pass the lips of the man she had loved.

* * *

"Yes?" Peter jumped to his feet, still clutching Jamie close to him, and approached the doctor. "Oui. I'm Peter Barlow. How is she?"

"Mr Barlow," the doctor began in broken English. "Your wife –"

"Fiancée," Peter corrected him; how he wished it were different.

"Your fiancée, she has a badly sprained ankle, three broken ribs, a few cuts, a nasty graze to her face…"

"Nothing serious then?"

"Those things, no."

"There's something else?" Peter asked fearfully as hope ebbed slowly away. "Tell me quickly, what is it?"

"She would like to see you, to tell you in person. If you could come…" The doctor motioned for Peter to follow him.

"Oh, hold on."

Peter carried Jamie back to Simon and placed her gently back down onto the rigid seat.

"Daddy, no!" Jamie protested. "I wanna see mummy!"

"Later, sweetheart," Peter kissed Jamie softly on her forehead. "Si, can you keep an eye on her?"

"Of course," Simon agreed. "Go, you need to be with Carla."

"Thanks, son," Peter smiled at Simon gratefully, recognising in that instant what a mature and thoughtful young man his son was turning into. He placed his hand briefly on Simon's shoulder before turning and following the doctor.

* * *

Carla looked up from her hospital bed as Peter entered and smiled at him, a feeble attempt to buoy his spirits.

"Hey," Peter rushed to Carla's side, kissing her softly, his arms naturally reaching around to embrace her. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he apologised as she winced at his touch. "Does it hurt much? Do you need more drugs?"

"No, shhh, it's fine," she reassured him. "I'm fine."

"Are you though? The doctor said…"

"Just hush will you," Carla said soothingly, patting the bed gently. "Sit down, there's something you need to know."

"Oh, god." Peter took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. "What is it?"

"The doctor told you about my injuries?"

"Ankle, ribs, cuts, graze." Peter listed off everything the doctor had told him.

"There's one more thing," Carla explained hesitantly. "One more test they need to do to… to make sure."

"Just tell me, please, Car, I can't bear this suspense."

"Okay," Carla nodded, smiling at him nervously. "They want to send me for an ultrasound."

"An ultrasound?" Peter was confused. "For what?"

"To check on the baby."

"What?" Peter stared at Carla; dumbfounded. Had she just said… "Baby?"

"Yeah," she nodded with tears of both happiness and fear springing to her eyes. "Baby."

"Are you…?"

"Pregnant? Yes."

"Since when?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I didn't know myself until the doctor told me."

"We're having a baby?" Peter couldn't quite wrap his head around this unexpected news, not just yet.

"Yeah," Carla couldn't keep the smile off her face, despite the uncertainty of her condition. "But don't get too excited, yeah? They need to check the baby wasn't hurt in the accident. Hence the…"

"Ultrasound, right." Peter breathed deeply, trying to take everything in; the joy and the potential loss, all bundled up into one almost overpowering mass of emotions. "We need to get this done right now," he declared breathlessly, his mind whirring. "Where's the doctor? He needs to sort this out!"

"Hey," Carla murmured. "It's okay, they're organising it now. Just… relax."

"Relax," Peter repeated with another deep breath. "Oh my god, Carla, we're having a baby!"

* * *

Peter gripped Carla's hand tightly as she lay back on the bed, the sonographer gliding the probe over her abdomen, sticky with the special ultrasound gel. They both peered anxiously at the screen, watching as the image came into focus and they could gradually make out the different body parts; the head, the arms, the legs, the tiny little body. It was their baby; their child. But still the anxiety remained; until they heard a heartbeat, strong and steady, neither would be able to relax.

_Tump ta tump ta tump ta tump ta tump_

"Is that it?" Carla asked anxiously.

"That's it," the sonographer confirmed. "That's your baby's heartbeat."

Carla turned to Peter and burst out laughing the relief was so overpowering and then immediately dissolved into tears.

"Hey," Peter murmured, stroking Carla's hair softly. "It's okay, everything's okay."

"I know, I'm just… I don't know. It's too much to process right now."

"You're telling me," Peter said with a laugh. "Can you tell how far along she is?" He asked the sonographer.

"I'll just take a few measurements…"

"We're having a baby, Peter!" Carla looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears of relief and happiness.

"I know!"

"I can't believe it, it's…"

"From these measurements, I'd say you were about eighteen weeks along. You'll need to confirm all this with your doctor back home, but eighteen weeks is about right, I'd say."

"Eighteen weeks?" Peter stared, dumbfounded.

"I told you I was getting a bit thick around the middle."

"But how could you not know?" Peter asked, confused.

"I never thought," Carla stammered. "I mean, I was still bleeding every month. I guess, thinking back, it was lighter than usual."

"That's quite common," the sonographer interjected. "For women to have spotting during the first few months."

"Really?" Peter wanted to make sure. "There's nothing wrong with the baby? Or with Carla?"

"As far as I can tell, mother and child are both perfectly healthy."

* * *

"I'm sorry I messed up the wedding."

Carla was back in her hospital bed, with Peter sat faithfully by her side.

"Hey," he reassured her. "None of that matters. As long as you're okay. And this little one." Peter reached out and placed his hand gently on Carla's tummy. "You two are what's important to me."

"Mummy! Mummy!" Jamie came running into the room, followed closely by Simon. "Are you okay, mummy?"

"Yes, baby, I am."

Peter lifted Jamie up onto the bed so Carla could give her a cuddle. She wrapped her arms around her daughter and held her close, desperate to reassure her; she knew how upset Jamie would have been as she waited, not knowing what was happening with her mum, fearing the worst.

"And we've got some news," Peter teased with a grin. "You tell 'em," he prompted Carla. "Go on."

"Well…" Carla couldn't wipe the broad grin off her face. "Me and your dad, we're going to have a baby."

"You're pregnant?" Simon asked, the shock clearly visible on his face.

"Yes, son," Peter confirmed. "How do you feel about that?"

"Me? I think it's great. Congratulations." Simon gave his dad a hug and Carla a peck on the cheek.

"What about you, Jamie?" Carla asked her daughter. "Would you like a little brother or sister?"

"Yes please!" Jamie nodded excitedly at first but, before long, her smile turned into a frown. "But… would we have to give it back, like with Susie?"

"Oh no, sweetheart. This would be our baby forever."

"A real baby?" Jamie asked, her eyes wide with wonder. "Is it in your tummy?"

"Yeah," Carla took Jamie's hand gently in hers and laid it on her belly. "In there is your baby brother, or your baby sister, we don't know yet."

Carla smiled up at Peter as Jamie stared at her mum's tummy, fascinated by the idea of what – or who – was growing inside. She pulled up Carla's hospital gown to get a closer look, pressing her face against Carla's tummy, kissing it and talking to it. "Hello," she greeted her mysterious new sibling. "I'm your big sister, I'm Jamie. And I love you lots and lots and lots."

Peter and Carla locked eyes; they were thinking the same thing. The power of second chances had truly changed their lives. It had healed all the hurts of the past and reunited their family; their family that was growing, not just in numbers, but in real, honest love.


	37. Chapter 37: Epilogue

**Chapter 37: Epilogue**

It was nine days later when they finally made it to that clifftop. To the celebrant waiting for them, and the wooden altar with the chiffon and the peonies, the refreshing sea breeze whisking off the waters of the Côte d'Azur, and the warm sun's rays bathing their bodies.

Father and son stood waiting by the altar; there were no nerves, no worries about everything that might go wrong. Because everything had already gone wrong. They'd had all the bad luck in the world. They had been pushed to their limits, tested almost beyond their means to stay the course. But they had. They had survived. They had more than survived; they had come through the fire stronger than before. The chaff had been blown away by the wind and all that was left was the gold; the assurance of loving and being loved in return.

Just out of sight of their men waiting for them at the altar, Carla crouched down in front of Jamie, placing her hands gently on her shoulders.

"Are we ready?"

Jamie nodded with a smile.

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful, mummy."

Carla's hand instinctively reached for the graze on her face, not quite healed yet. She touched it gently, lamenting the roughness that still remained, the fact that she wouldn't look perfect for Peter on their wedding day.

Jamie leaned forward and, with all the innocent honesty that comes with childhood, kissed her mum softly, right there on that graze. With that one small action of love, Jamie removed all self-doubt and embarrassment from Carla's mind; that graze didn't matter, she knew that now.

"Thank you, baby," Carla whispered to her daughter, kissing her in return. "I love you."

Carla rose to her feet and held her hand out to Jamie. Jamie gazed up at her mum, adoration in her eyes, and slipped her hand into Carla's, gripping it tightly.

Then slowly, for Carla's ankle wasn't yet completely healed, the mother and daughter duo walked along a makeshift aisle that had been marked out by creamy white conch shells gathered from nearby beaches.

Carla looked down the aisle to the man waiting for her at the other end and smiled. Peter gazed back at her down that same aisle and couldn't help but grin at his good fortune. He had to pinch himself to believe that this gorgeous creature was coming to marry him. Despite the slight limp and the graze on her face, she was gorgeous, stunning, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, both in reality and in his dreams.

The yellow dress was no more, it had been torn and stained with blood and dirt during the accident. So Carla and Jamie had travelled to nearby Cannes the day before and scoured the boutiques for a replacement. In that moment, Peter was seeing the result for the first time. Wide-legged and pleated cream silk palazzo trousers, tied at the waist with a matching belt, and a figure-hugging sleeveless nude coloured top covered with embroidery in the same shade of cream as the trousers. And of course Jamie had wanted a new dress to match her mum, so she too was wearing an outfit of cream silk and embroidery.

Peter's heart swelled at the sight of his 'girls' walking towards him, their eyes shining with love and happiness. Two of his tribe – no, three! He couldn't forget the third person coming towards him down that aisle; that little miracle Carla was carrying inside her.

And then finally she was there, standing beside him, smiling at him, her hand reaching out to him. He eagerly accepted the hand she offered him, holding it tight and swearing to himself to never let it go.

They were married there on that clifftop, with the peonies and the chiffon, the shells and the Mediterranean breeze. They exchanged vows, promises to love and honour and be faithful; beautiful words, but mere words all the same. It wasn't their words that bound them together, it was their actions they carried out every single day that formed their promise to remain true, that proved to each other and to the world the state of their hearts.

Their story didn't end there on that clifftop, in many ways their story only began that day. Their story as a family that could never be broken, a story they would walk through, united as one, side-by-side, a family of five souls bound together forever by love.

_The End_


End file.
